A Cruce Salus
by Wolf In Sheep's Clothing
Summary: The Marauders are trying to enjoy their seventh year. Warhardened Ginny Weasley is trying to survive. What happens when the two worlds are forced together? Rating for mildly graphic violence, mention of sexual abuse, and language.
1. Chapter 1

A Cruce Salus

_Opened my eyes and walked out the door / And the clouds came tumbling down / It's bye, bye, goodbye / I tried / Dreading the sea of a troubled mind / Had to leave myself behind / Singing, bye, bye, goodbye_

_**I Tried.**_

(( Landed by Ben Folds ))

"Ah, Boxing Day. Has it ever sucked more?"

"QUIET!"

Sirius Black, a.k.a. Padfoot--Gryffindor, marauder and pranker extraordinaire--lowered his voice and picked up a tattered book. "Damn it. This one's scorched, too. That's another detention."

"What does that bring the tally up to?"

"31. But the night's still young, boys!"

"I said, QUIET!"

The three seventh years were serving a "pre-detention", if you will. They had made their excuses to their parents to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break, so they could be with their friend Remus Lupin on his _time of the month. _(That always made them laugh.) That had been three days ago, but Remus was still recovering from his assorted bites and injuries in the hospital wing. Then yesterday, it had been Sirius's brilliant idea that "since it's our last Christmas as students of Hogwarts, we bloody well make it a memorable one!"

One thing was for sure- they wouln't be able to forget this if they _tried._

Most likely, it was more becaues he was incredibly bored with one fourth of their pack missing. Sirius had attempted to cast some "minor spells" on the library that would cause what they enjoyed most: chaos and disarray. Unfortunately, he said them wrong, and ended up setting nearly half of the spacious room on fire. Madam Pince had been so furious that she ordered their punishment would be sorting the damaged books from the unharmed ones- _without magic._ In addition, for every book that was hurt even slightly, they each earned themselves an entire night's worth of detention.

It was true that James Potter, who was considerably more practiced at these spells, could have performed them himself, but it had been hard enough convincing him to let the prank go on at all. His long-time infatuation, Lily Evans, had finally deemed his "big head" shrunken enough to go out with him, and he didn't want to do anything to mess that up. She could nearly always be found with her nose in a book somewhere, and somehow James thought that causing a panic in the library wouldn't do very much good for their relationship. That decision had landed all of them there at 9:45 on the day after Christmas.

He laughed and leaned against a shelf as he watched Peter Pettigrew struggle to decide what language the spellbook he was observing was written in. James decided to let it go a little while longer before he informed his friend that it was upside down.

Peter gave a sigh of frustration and threw the book to the ground. Unfortunately, he soon realized that was the wrong thing to do as huge red puffs of smoke and various jinxes came spewing out of the angered book at lightning speed. Their corner of the library filled with suffocating gases and each was hit with at least three hexes before one of them had enough sense to choke out, _"Run!" _

The three blinded boys bolted through of the library, no doubt knocking over chairs and tables in the process. When they finally reached the double doors, they kept running down the halls until they reached the bottom of the astronomy tower. There they collapsed on each other in a fit of hysterical laughter while wiping tears of mirth from their eyes.

"That.. was.. bloody.. _amazing, _Peter!" said James.

"Yeah, too bad Remus couldn't be here to see this!" he replied, and pointed to James's face. His hair had lengthened to down past his shoulders and was flashing random colors of the rainbow- hideous, fluorescent, colors of the rainbow. Currently, it was a bright yellow.

James looked down at his hair, his laughter ceasing immediately.

"MY HAIR!" he screamed, going into a minor panic attack. The sight of his most prized posession like that caused him to forget his wand.

"This is just painful," muttered Sirius, "_Finite Incantatem. _Damn, James, you scream like a girl- _over your hair."_

"Like you wouldn't," snorted Peter.

"Peter, has hell frozen over?"

"Then we all have yet to see my hair in a state any less than perfect."

James, who had just noticed Sirius's shirt, had fallen backonto the ground in a fit of laughter. Unable to make out the words, he simply pointed at his best friend's attire before throwing his head back and snickering until he couldn't breathe.

The other two's eyes widened as they realized Sirius was fully clad in a bold Slytherin green and silver, complete with a detailed emblem of a snake. He attempted to lift the shirt off of him, but it was plastered to his chest. Peter let him struggle for a while before finally performing the removal spell.

"You do realize we'll probably be in detention for the rest of the year, don't you?"

"Cheers."

They took for granted how simple and carefree their lives were, and how complicated and painful they could be. At that moment, they had no worries larger than if their friend was feeling better or how many detentions they were going to get. They had no appreciation for how sheltered they were, and what torture they would go through after walking through the halls of Hogwarts for the last time.

Fortunately or unfortunately for them, that was all about to change as a sudden flash of blue light emanating from the tower became synonymous with a bloodcurdling shriek and the distinct sound of someone tumbling ungracefully down it. Their eyes widened, the laughter they shared forgotten, as they tore up the staircase and stumbled through the darkness towards the source of the noise. Only after lighting their wands did they see the silhouette of a body sprawled across the ancient stone staircase.

Sirius picked the body up--a girl, he soon realized--and carried her back down into the hallways, where they could get a good look on her face.

Peter sucked in his breath and turned away after Sirius turned the girl over. He couldn't even bear to look at her face- it was that disfigured.What probably would have been midnight black hair was matted with thick clumps of dried blood, and another area still sported a steady flux of the sticky red substance. A jagged scar started at the bottom of her forehead and continued down her right cheek almost until her chin. Her nose looked as though it had been broken and there were various cuts and bruises covering her face. One was a deep purple surrouding her eye and everything around it for nearly four inches onward. Her lip was severed and a wound on her neck was oozing pus. The girl's robes were skin tight and looked as though they might be concealing something. There was many a tear or stain (mostly blood) on them. She had a wand holster, but it was empty. James noted that there was a knife sticking out of her dragon-hide boots.

She looked straight out of battle.

"Um.. Does anyone else notice anything _strange_ about this girl?" asked Sirius.

James punched him.

"She was so light, almost weightless, and she's losing a lot of blood.. _fast."_

"Then we'd better get her to the hospital wing," Peter put in, his voice shaking and his eyes still distended.

They were all still in shock from such an unexpected and gruesome thing occuring so unexpectedly and quickly altering the mood from humorous to dangerous. However, when Peter said these words, they realized that someone's life was on the line here and began to levitate her to the hospital wing.

"Who do you think she is, Padfoot?"

"Prongs, even if we knew her, I doubt we'd be able to tell after.. whatever it is that happened to her happened."

"She just seems so.. odd. Like she doesn't belong, or something."

"How many Hogwarts students have _you_ seen beaten up this bad?"

"So you don't think she's a student?"

"We should have checked for her attacker," whispered Peter.

"...What do you mean?" asked James.

"Her attacker! You don't think she did this to _herself,_ do you? We just _left _him there. He was probably waiting in the shadows! He could've attacked _us! _Now he's going to get away with what he did."

"But who would do that? I mean, this is a new low, even for Slytherins."

"I wouldn't put it past Snape," said Sirius darkly.

"But Snape isn't capable of this- I mean, even if he wanted to, he wouldn't have the power to beat her up this bad, not without help."

"Then maybe the Slytherins helped him! Maybe my goddamned cousins decided to have a little fun with a defenseless student!"

"Er, Padfoot? She doesn't exactly look.. defenseless. Haven't you noticed the _knives_ sticking out of her boots? I don't think the Slytherins did this. She looks like she could give them a hell of a run for their money."

"Well then, who did it?"

"POMFREY!"

The school nurse finally came into view as they reached the hospital wing.

"Merlin, what is it? You'll wake half the school!"

None of them bothered to correct her that it was only around 10:00, and therefore no one would be in bed this early. Instead, they soundlessly levitated the mystery girl onto an empty bed, next to Remus's. Who.. ironically, was asleep.

Poppy Pomfrey sucked in her breath at the sight of someone looking so close to death.

"What happened!" she shrieked as she started tending to her, but looked as though she didn't know where to begin.

"We don't know," started James, "We were by the astronomy tower, and Sirius kind of rescued her."

Madam Pomfrey looked at them suspiciously and narrowed her eyes. "Go get Dumbledore," she said gravely, rubbing some cream colored lotion on the bruise around the girl's eye, "All of you. I need to see what bruises she's hiding underneath these robes of hers."

* * *

Ginny Weasley tossed and turned on an uncomfortable bed, cursing whatever forces that be had put her in such unbearable pain. Ah, well.. She had been in worse. 

Wait a minute. Where was she? She tried to make some kind of recognition, but the pain was blinding her.

Cool. Wet. Relief. Cool, wet relief. What was that? It trickled down her throat like a stream of heaven. She almost let herself relax-

But No.

That was Ginny Weasley's Number One Rule: never let your guard down. Unfortunately, that meant never relax. It came from three years of attempting to kick the Dark Lord's ass.

Well, at least she still had her sense of humor. Although it wasn't that funny, really. She had been captured and tortured near a dozen times, yet she always managed to escape (a fact she was rather proud of). Death Eaters had used the Cruciatus on her more times than she could count. She was second only to Harry Potter in how often and how violently they targeted her. Voldemort had grown increasingly interested in her as she grew up. He had heard of the incident in the Chamber, of course, and her death seemed to him a trophy that he had yet to win. A trophy that he wanted very, very dearly to win.

Ginny had changed a lot since innocent times, and not only in appearance (she had died her hair a deep black, for her brilliant red stood out too much in battle). The first catalyst to these changes had been Dumbledore's death, in her fifth year. The former Headmaster had been the wizarding world's sign of hope- as long as he was there, they stood a fighting chance. When he died, hope died with him. And hope- hope is a dangerous thing to take away from people. Just when she thought that she'd taken enough beatings for one day, her longtime love had broken up with her.. "to protect her".

Well, after that, she was damn well going to prove that she could protect _herself._

With no Hogwarts to return to, Harry devoted his time solely to aiding the Order. He took Dumbledore's place at the head of the organization, though he was still in training. Despite the protests of her entire family, Ginny had joined up as well. In spite of the fact the he wanted to "protect her", Harry understood her wanting to help and allowed it. What a fucking hypocrite.

Things weren't quiet at all after the attack in her fifth year--with Dumbledore gone, why should the Death Eaters keep a low profile? Ginny got plenty of hands on experience in battle, and could remember her first Order mission as though it was yesterday.

* * *

_Flashback_

_She couldn't breathe._

_She couldn't think._

_Her feet were on autopilot, but her mind was screaming. She was supposed to be rescuing others from these dark and gloomy Death Eater dungeons, but she could only worry about herself._

_What if someone caught her? What if they killed her? What if they killed her family? What if-_

_Oh._

_No._

_Where was the group! Why had they left her! They weren't supposed to split up! This was bad. This was really bad. _

_Suddenly, a hand snaked around her waist and another slammed itself ungracefully into her face._

_"I got one!" someone shouted as they lifted her off the ground and began to carry her off. She couldn't see, and for a moment she was too shocked to do anything, but her survival instincts soon kicked in. Unfortunately, whoever was carring her was strong enough to withstand her frantic kicking and fighting. In fact, he acted as though he didn't even notice them, even though she was fighting with all her might._

_Her wand! Where was her wand! She tried to reach her back pocket--_"Moody would disapprove," _she thought wryly--but her arms were pinned against this bulk of a man that was carrying her. She attempted screaming, but all it got her was a tightened grip. _

_Blackness._

_End Flashback_

* * *

That had been her first taste of torture. She realized that it was her own foolish mistake, but fortunately, the rest of the group had arrived and saved her--and the people she was supposed to be helping to save--before the Death Eaters could get any information out of her. 

She remembered feeling so useless. She hated being a liability to the others. From that day forward, she vowed that if it ever happened again, it would NOT be because she was too lightheaded to stay with her team, and that she would escape _herself. _

Ginny pushed herself beyond her limits and trained day in and day out. She became an expert in muggle combat, magical duelling, and unfortunately, for it was necessary, Dark Magic. Killing and using the Cruciatus on Death Eater after Death Eater had hardened her into the person she had become. Sometimes, she even wondered if she had become heartless. Whatever the case may be, she made sure that her battles and missions were always spotless. It was quite easy, once she learned muggle combat, for most wizards don't stand a chance against that--especially ones who are so adamant about not engaging in muggle activites.

She lost many people along the way--her mother, Remus, Percy, Luna, Hermione.. and the list goes on. Other people were brokenhearted (even the twins' disposition wasslightly less carefree) but Ginny just fought harder. Nothing could stop her. People looked up to her almost as much as The Chosen One himself.

However, not even the most advanced soldier can escape everything. She had been tortured more times than she could count, but they never got _anything_ out of her. Not one thing. Not even in front of Voldemort _himself. _But because she was so "goddamn stubborn", they wanted to, badly, and resorted to any means possible to try to.

* * *

_Flashback_

_Ginny broke down and cried_

_And cried_

_And cried._

_But it didn't stop their hands.. or their lips.. or thier bodies.._

_One after the other; all taken by force._

_She had not been a virgin before, but it didn't make the process any less painful to her._

_The way they sneered and offered her to the next person was the worst. As if she was just a good shag, and nothing more._

_Because, to them-_

_She was._

_End Flashback_

* * *

They had done everything to her; had even held her under the Cruciatus for so long that the entire left side of her face bore a permanent battle scar, but this was the worst. She felt so violated and just so utterly disgusting.The hardest thing was when Draco Malfoy got his turn.That had almost gotten the information out of her, but she had held on to one ideal: 

_They've taken everything from you. If you give them this, you have nothing left._

Being captured and escaping--it was a two way road. Being rescued was absolutely unacceptable for her, and the Order had come to expect her to be back within the week whenever she was captured. It was a running joke among them. But this time--the first time they had tortured her in such a way--she was too broken-spirited to try and return home. She just waited in her cell until someone else would come to have their way with her. Finally, after two long months, she finally plucked up the will to survive and escaped.

She still remembered the worry and relief evident on her family's faces when she walked back into Headquarters. She hadn't even greeted them- just went straight up to her room, curled up into a ball, and cried. They knew what had happened right away. There was only one thing they could do powerful enough to break _Ginny Weasley._

But the next day, it was as though nothing had happened, and she fought even **harder.** They hadn't broken her, because she would not give up until she destroyed every last one of them. Tragedy made her the toughest warrior, the one the Death Eaters cursed themselves for running into, the one lesser fighters looked up to. In a way, she was glad it happened, because if anyone was strong enough to get over it, it was her. Plus, it made her a better, stronger person who didn't take anything for granted anymore.

As times got harder, the Order developed code names for everyone. Ginny, Harry and a few others were allowed to choose theirs.

She chose Samara Davidson. It hadn't come from anywhere, she just liked the elegant mystery about it. And that was what it was all about, wasn't it? Mystery? Not letting anyone know who she was?

She liked it.

Through all this pain and suffering, she had emerged successful. She was fierce and able-bodied in battle, but outside of it, she was also sarcastic, funny and compassionate. She knew how to lighten the mood and get people to have fun for once in their lives. People loved her, feared her, looked up to her..

And so was her fault at her latest battle. The Death Eaters were, once again, attempting to ravage what little was left of Hogwarts grounds. It was a sorry sight- you could barely tell it had once stood tall as a castle. Somehow, she had ended up in what used to be the astronomy tower battling a particularly nasty Death Eater named Parker. As usual, she had the upper hand and was beating him up spectacularly. However, he was putting up a fight and doing quite a job on her as well. She could tell that one of her ribs were broken, and was having trouble breathing, not to mention the other assorted scrapes and bruises. In spite of this, she felt full enough of herself to allow a moment's hesitation.

It was a moment too long.

She couldn't even comprehend what spell Parker threw at her. It could've been anything, but whatever it was, it was forceful. The blinding light hit her in her already troubled chest and sent her tumbling down the tower with a shriek. The last thing she remembered was hitting her head.

For the past God knows how many hours, she had been drifting in and out of sleep. Sometimes she tried to tell the difference between the two. Was this white room part of her dream, or were these nightmares real?

Maybe it was a little bit of both.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**To all my loyal readers/reviewers of Remembering Sirius- consider it officially abandoned. I've grown extremely displeased with it and I love you all for being so supportive, but I really have no more motivation to write it. I've been posting this story on so I decided to make up for my lack of activity on here and post it for you all as well.**

**I'm not going to beg you to review, but if you're going to, I'd appreciate it if you would point out specific things that you liked/disliked. I'm very open to constructive criticism, and would like to know what you think I could fix about this.**

"And hope- hope is a dangerous thing to take away from people."** Whoever can tell me where I got that from will get their name in this fic! Finally, Samara is pronounced** Suh-marr-uh, **not Sam-uh-ruh, the same way they pronounce it in The Ring.**

**Thank you all again and enjoy A Cruce Salus.**


	2. Chapter 2

A Cruce Salus:

**Chapter 2**

_It's a heart break that you can't fix up / It's a last try when you've lost your luck / It's a bad day, another bad day / It's a last chance when they've given up / It's a bad ride, falling out of love / Can you take it? Cause I can't take it / It's starting up and never stopping again_

_When the rain starts shaking the ground / I hope you're ready now / I hope you're ready for it when you / Get caught out in the rain /** I hope you're ready now / For all the storms to head your way.**_

(( Caught in the Rain by October Fall ))

* * *

The bedsheets were overpowering, she was on fire, she was dying.. 

A sudden surge had her bent over the bed, chest heaving on the pristine floor. After throwing up for so long it felt as though her stomach was on the floor with the bile, the blood came.

She heaved and hacked and felt a hand on her back as she coughed up handfuls of the scarlet liquid. Dazed, she tried to remember where she was, but only felt a fresh wave of pain coming over.

"Let it out, just let it out.." Ginny could've sworn she heard someone repeating these words over and over again, but they seemed faraway. Was it part of her endless dreams or was it her only link to reality? She held onto these words for as long as she could before darkness overtook her again.

* * *

"But _why _can't we see her?" 

It had been nearly three whole days since Sirius, James and Peter had found the mystery girl, and they had yet to visit her in the hospital wing. Not that they hadn't tried- on the contrary, they had been attempting to knock down Pomfrey's door nearly "every minute of every hour of every godforsaken day!" Remus had gotten well enough to hear all about it, and had been dragged back to the place he had just gotten out of more times than he could count.

The others were absolutely obsessed with finding out who this girl was; even more so after Dumbledore himeslf forbade them to let anyone know that whoever it was was here. Of course, the headmaster knew it was a given that Remus would find out, but he made it very clear that none of the few other people staying for break could. He had also spent nearly half an hour of their time questioning them relentlessly, most of which they hadn't been able to answer. Why was she so important?

"_Because,_" replied the nurse with every ounce of patience she posessed (which really wasn't much), "Dumbledore. Forbids. It."

It really was rather stupid of the staffnot to realize that hyping all this up would only make them more interested.

"But _why _does he forbid it?" continued James incessantly,"What is she, a Death Eater? An hitman? A drug dealer? ..You know, I could continue this for quite some time."

"So I've heard," she said murderously.

"Where is she? Why isn't she in the regular quarters?"

Pomfrey kept her mouth shut, her lips shockingly resembling McGonagall's.

"Look," cut in Sirius, "can you at least tell us how she is? Considering we _saved her?"_

"Dumbledore got your detentions dropped from Madam Pince--who is a hard woman to reckon with--so-"

Peter and Sirius rolled their eyes. "Sound like someone I know. They're in this room. Three guesses."

"_Who is a hard woman to reckon with, so _you lot should be grateful. Isn't that enough!"

"Oh, Poppy, you know us better than that! We're not that easy; of course it isn't."

"You may have saved her, but I don't think ANYTHING will be able to save her from you."

"Spot on!"

"OUT!"

* * *

"You know, this would be a lot easier if _someone_ hadn't let Snape _nick _our _map."_

"I'm sorry!" said Peter again sheepishly, cowering under Sirius's glare.

"Oh, please," cut in Remus, "This is getting old. For the last time, Sirius, it was an accident and Peter's sorry. Just let it go!"

Peter shot Remus a grateful glance.

"Let it go?" said James incredulously, "We spent years on that thing!"

"And now, in our final glory year, we can't use it!" backed up Sirius.

"How will we ever pull off another prank?"

"Or successfully turn McGonagall's hard into various shades of pink?"

"Salmon happens to be my favorite. Remus! No more salmon-colored buns desperately covered up with tacky hats!"

"How will we ever cause misguided mischief?"

"Or pass it down to future generations of prankers!"

"Or use it for young Pronglet!"

"Or.. Pronglet?"

Remus and Peter snickered.

"You know, the inevitable wonder child you'll be having with our dear Lily Evans," stated Sirius as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

James raised his eyebrows. "Am I missing something?"

"Well," he launched in, "he will either have long red hair and brown eyes or black hair-that-never-stays-down-right with green eyes. Then, he will have a tiny bit of his mother's aptitude for school, but not enough to qualify him to be a pussy. He will be the fifth-best pranker in Hogwarts history and a fantastic Quidditch captian (seeker, if it was my choice, but his dad'll probably pressure him into Chaser. Poor kid.) If he-"

"You have too much time on your hands," said Remus, but his face betrayed him with a smile.

James, on the other hand, looked interested. "How do you know he won't be a girl?"

Sirius crinkled his eyebrows together in concentration. After about half a minute, he said, "Prongs.. did you just suggest that your son might be transgendered?"

That comment earned him a whack over the head.

"Guys?" cut in Peter, "Shouldn't we get back to the job at hand?"

"Absolutely right, Peter!" said Sirius, "Who was the smartass that interrupted our mission with mindless small talk?"

All three rolled their eyes and kept on their way to the hospital wing, making sure that no one was following them. (This was something that Sirius would dearly like to point out would also be much easier with the Marauder's Map.)

"_Lumos," _whispered Peter.

"Put that out!" snarled James, "she might see us!"

Peter quickly rushed to say the countercourse- they were already mad enough at him for one night. But, honestly! It wasn't like he _meant_ for Snape to find it! Peter had a run-in with the Slytherin a couple weeks ago while making his way to the kitchens, and his friends were nowhere to be found. Both seventh years knew what this meant--Snape had an undeniable upper hand. Unfortunately, Peter had chosen to take out the map the moment before he was cornered. It wasn't activated, but Snape had seen them with it before, so he quickly summoned it from Peter. After getting nothing but insults (and snorts of laughter from Peter), he threatened to take it to Filch. Judging by Peter's reaction and the names "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs" on the paper, he figured it would be amusing. _Yes, bloody hilarious. Bastard._

Finally, they made it to the hospital wing. The Marauders had enlisted an eager first year to make sure Pomfrey was asleep when they arrived. When he gave them the thumbs up, they headed in.

"_Silencio," _muttered James and made his way to the private room the girl was being kept in at the back. Sirius reached into his pocket and extracted his knife, hoping it would work on the heavily protected door. He slid the edge through and turned, waiting to hear the soft 'click' that would signal the door had been unlocked..

_Click._

Remus couldn't believe their luck. He'd thought for sure a door as secretive and private as this one would take much more than Sirius's pocketknife! They slid open the door quietly, even though they'd cast a silencing charm, and fumbled around for the lights.

"Wow," said Peter.

The girl was as pale as Nearly Headless Nick and as red as the Bloody Baron. The contrast of the magenta on her nearly white skin was akin to blood on snow. In truth, she didn't look alive at all, but rather as though she'd died days ago. Though she looked considerably better than when they'd discovered her, the two days apart hadn't done much for her appearance. She tossed and turned in her sleep as a bead of sweat formed on her brow. A blind man could tell she was in more pain than any one of them--except maybe Remus--had ever been in.

"So.. what do we do now?" inquired Remus.

"What do you mean?" responded Sirius.

"Well, we're here--what was the plan for _after_ we got in?"

"Er.. I didn't exactly think that far ahead."

"Shocking."

They didn't have to worry about their heist becoming lackluster, because at that moment, the girl awoke. She was soout of itthat it was obvious she was oblivious to their presence, but that only worried them more. Her body was draped over the side of the bed and James had to jump out of the way so she didn't vomit on him. Their eyes distended and none of them looked like they knew what to do. She spilled her guts repeatedly, so much that they wondered when if was going to end.

And then the blood came.

If the four hadn't been panicking before, they were now. How long could she cough up her blood like that? Remus, not knowing what else to do, smacked his hand on her back and spoke to her.

"Let it out, just let it all out.." he said.

His friends looked at him strangely. "What? It's what Pomfrey does for me!" he said defensively.

After a while, the girl stopped hacking, but her face was still scrunched up in pain. She rolled back onto her bed and fell into another deep sleep.

"C'mon," whispered Peter, shaken, "Let's get out of here."

"Not so fast, Mr. Pettigrew," countered a visibly angered nurse standing in the doorway. "What a wonderful thing to find while making my night rounds!

"I see you've met our guest, Mr. Lupin. Can't say I'm surprised, with the way you hang around this lot."

Remus looked at the floor, ashamed for betraying the woman who helped him through his transformations.

"What's wrong with her!" shouted Sirius, forgetting to care that it was nighttime, "What's wrong with _you? _Don't you think we'd want to know that this girl is in here dying? We don't even know her NAME, by the way!'

"The Legendary Rage of Sirius Black," muttered James under his breath, waiting for his best mate to launch into another round of heated accusations. Fortunately, he was cut off by Madam Pomfrey, whose eyes had softened.

"I don't know her name either, Mr. Black, but what I do know is that the headmaster has instructed me to protect the students. Now, whether or not you found her, this woman may be dangerous. Until we confirm that, she will be staying nowhere near the rest of the school. And she's not dying, either. Actually, for injuries as massive as hers, her recovery has been monumentally quick. If she continues at this rate, I expect she'll be out of here quite soon.

"But that DOESN'T justify breaking and entering, you four!" she scolded them, remembering what situation they were in, "Honestly, must you set out to break every rule you're taught?"

"Ah, Poppy, you think too highly of us! I doubt we'd be able to break _every _one," said James.

"Would be rather brilliant, though, eh?" said Sirius wistfully.

"If and when this girl proves to be a threat, you will NOT be seeing her at all. However, if by some one in a million chance she's not, I expect the whole school will be seeing a lot of her."

But before the boys could figure out what she meant, they were shoved out the door.

* * *

**(( A/N:What did you think? Any specific lines you particularly enjoyed? Next chapter: Ginny wakes up long enough to be questioned. Thanks for reading! ))**


	3. Chapter 3

A Cruce Salus:

**Chapter 3**

_Sometimes / I forget I'm still awake / I fuck up and say these things out loud / My old friend / I swear I never meant for this / I never meant_

_Don't look at me that way / It was an honest mistake / Don't look at me that way / It was an honest mistake _

_**An honest mistake.**_

(( An Honest Mistake by The Bravery ))

* * *

"Ah," said a familiar voice, "I see that you are finally awake. Long enough to hold a coherent conversation, that is. I'd much rather have just used Legilimency while you were sleeping, but you have a staggering set of Occlumency wards. Would you like to tell me your name?" 

Panic coursed through Ginevra Molly Weasley's veins as she bolted upright on an uncomfortable spring mattress. She knew exactly where she was.. or where they wanted her to think she was.

"You're deranged," she said to the imposter sitting in front of her.

The man who had charmed himself to look so uncannily like the late Albus Dumbledore cocked his head to the side.

"Really, now," he said as though amused, "and why would that be?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare try and play mind games with me, you filthy bastard. I know how to beat you; I always have, I always will, and if you don't stop whatever sick game this is that you're playing, I swear to Merlin I will kill you."

The look-alike traded in his amused face for a stoic one. "I'll have you know that while I don't respond to threats well, I also believe in second chances. Now, I'll ask you again. What is your name?"

Ginny threw her head back and laughed. This was beyond absurd. What were the Death Eaters trying to accomplish here? She didn't feel like shit, so she knew she must have been healed. Why would they do that? It was obvious that they much preferred leaving her in pain, and if they were going to throw people that she knew were dead in her face, wouldn't they be a bit more cruel about it? Not that it wasn't already, but whoever this was was putting up a good show of not wanting to harm her. Unless that was a trick, too.

"Look," she ended up saying, "you seem genuinely curious, so you must be new at all this. I don't know which one of your kind put you up to this, but you're a right fool for listening to them. Didn't they tell you anything? About me, I mean. You're doing a rather good impression of him. Why don't you offer me a lemon drop, while you're at it? That is, if dead men eat candy."

"And who would 'my kind' be?"

"Dont play dumb. It doesn't suit him; you should know that. Then again, there's a lot of things you don't seem to know."

"I'm afraid I don't understand anything that you're saying. If you don't start cooperating, I will be forced to use Veritaserum, Miss.."

The Dumbledore waited for her to finish his sentence. When she didn't, he took a vial out of his robes and poured some in her open mouth. He looked surprised when she swallowed it without any trace of resistance. _Dunderhead._

"Let's get down to business, shall we? What is your name?"

"Watch it, because you're testing my patience. I should have slit your throat by now, but first I'll have _you_ know that_ I_ don't respond well to having a truth serum shoved down my throat."

"Impressive. Immune to Veritaserum? Am I right in saying that it takes a strong mind block coupled with high level Occulemency wards? Not many wizards can achieve that. I wonder where and why you learned it."

He said the last thing as though it was an accusation.

"I'm not stupid enough to tell you where, but I'll have you know that I learned it to protect myself from pathetic wizards such as yourself."

"Very well, then. You don't need to protect yourself from me, unless you decide to attack me. The only thing I need to know besides your name and how you got here is whether or not you'll be a danger to the students."

Ginny snorted. "Right," she said, "well, I was under the impression that even if there were more than a few students left per year, you and your people made sure that there was nowhere for them to learn how to save themselves."

The imposter allowed his face to display emotion again, but it was a burning anger that showed. "Let's get one thing straight, miss. You have insulted and threatened me and my life, not the other way around. You-"

"And to _think_ you could have avoided that by not being heartless."

"Why do you continue to act as though I've done you some unforgivable wrong? The only people I have harmed intentionally have all been Death Eaters. Are you one?"

Ginny smiled at her victory. She finally knew who this was.

"Parker, right? You can finish with the act now. It has to be you; you're the only one clever enough to be able to keep this up for so long.What was that last spell you threw at me in the Astronomy Tower? I'd like to know how you finally beat me. Congratulations on that, by the way, but if you plan on using it again, I promise you I'll be ready."

It looked like Parker wasn't going to give up, although she really had no idea what the point of all this was. It's not like she had been exceptionally close to Dumbledore, and he hadn't even attempted to hurt her yet.

"The only Parker that I am aware of would be a Slytherin seventh year by the name of Adonis Parker. My name, however, is Albus Dumbledore. I suppose I shouldn't have assumed you knew that. I'll come back when more of the potions have worn off--perhaps then you will be slightly less delusional."

Her eyes widened. Seventh year? Was he lying? That had to mean--no, that was impossible! There was no way.. unless.. _Oh my god, _she thought after looking at the calender on the wall as though she was seeing it for the first time.

"Miss?" said the man she was no longer sure was an imposter, "Are you alright?"

She snapped back to attention, realizing she had stopped paying attention to him in favor of the millions of complicated thoughts running around her head.

_"Fuck," _was her answer.

Ginny sighed and prepared herself for the blow she was about to give. "Alright. First of all, sorry for all the.. death threats and such. Second, what I am about to tell you you must not tell anyone. Well, excluding the Order, of course--"

"You know about the Order?" asked Dumbledore, slight panic in his eyes.

"Yes, and no. I know there is an Order here, but my Order won't exist foralmost two decades from now."

For a few seconds, Albus looked confused. After he realized what she was implying, his mouth dropped and he said, "I think you'd better explain."

* * *

"Hey, look on the brightside, Prongs!" said Sirius as the Marauders walked down to the Great Hall for dinner. 

"Brightside?" asked James. "Since when?"

Out of the four of them, James's curiosity was probably the biggest--too big for his own good. With all the questions surrounding the enigma that was.. whatever her name was, the last days of break had been torture. He'd had nothing to distract him, as most everyone was at home (leaving no one but his friends to prank--something he'd long ago learned was not a smart move. Except for Peter).

"The Express pulled in a coupla' hours ago."

"Ahem. For the mildy retarded today, this means that our dear Lily-flower will be at the feast."

Jame's eyes lit up at the thought of seeing his girlfriend for the first time in almost a fortnight. After all, they had only had about a week together as a couple before break.

After what seemed like a lifetime, they finally reached the Great Hall, where James--quite predicatably--rushed to Lily's side. Sirius looked happy to see it full again (except for the Slytherin table).

A few hopeful underclassmen tried to vy for Sirius and Remus's attention and invite them to sit, but they took their usual seats in the middle as always.

"--we ran out of there as fast as we could and Sirius looked like an ass in his hex, but that's not important because after that--" James was saying to Lily in hushed tones.

Remus raised his eyebrows and Sirius cleared his throat. James gave them a look that clearly told them they could trust his girl. Remus glanced at the rest of the eagerly watching table, indicating that couldn't trust the rest of them. James put on a don't-worry-about-them-I've-got-it-covered face, to which Sirius responded with a warning glare. Finally, James sighed defeatedly while Remus nodded and Sirius smiled in victory. Peter, along with the rest of the table, stared at them in confusion, wondering what had just happened.

Being late, the feast had already started. After their wordless conversation, they promptly began devouring the table. ("I'll tell you later," whispered James to a suspicious Evans). It wasn't until after his second helping of Shepherd's Pie did Remus look up at the staff table.

"Guys," he said, "where's Dumbledore?"

Sirius finished flirting with a sixth year brunette and turned to his friend. "What was that?"

"I said, where's Dumbledore?"

"I dunno.. maybe he has some Headmaster stuff to deal with. You know, besides giving poor souls like us detention and shit."

"He could be with _her," _he answered conspiratorially, lowering his voice and looking around him to make sure bystanders were sufficiently distracted, "I mean, it's been almost a week since Boxing Day. Think she might've woken up?"

As if on cue, the double doors opened and Dumbledore walked in. He was trailing behind some woman they didn't know. Sirius flashed her a grin--she had to be one of the most attractive people he'd ever seen that didn't go to Hogwarts (which really wasn't very much). Even so, he watched as her side bangs feel into her eyes as the rest of her midnight hairfell down to her sculpted chest silkily. She walked with an air of confidence that was hard to place. The hall had too many people in it for it to go completely silent, but most people stopped what they were doing to get a good look at the stranger or whisper about her to their friends. She didn't pay it any mind, but kept walking as though used to the limelight. Catching Sirius's smile, she turned to look at the Marauders and nodded slowly in their direction as though trying to convey some message.

James gasped. "It's _her!"_ he whispered excitedly, "Look!"

Once this was said, it became increasingly clear that it was indeed the girl they'd had so much experience with yet to whom they'd never said a word. By looking in their direction, she revealed that jagged scar on the side of her face. If anything, that scar made her all the more interesting to them. She had the same hair, although it looked much better without the blood clots. With all of her injuries, they hadn't been able to get a clear idea of what she looked like. Now, however, it was apparent that the woman who Dumbledore seemed to be following was the same one they had found that night.

When the couple reached the staff table, the headmaster turned to his apprehensive audience.

"As all of you are aware, our Defense professor has been called away to care for his sick sister and I've been filling his position for the time being. Fortunately for all of us, I have found a suitable candidate to take over the job for the remainder of the year. Kindly welcome your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Samara Davidson."

All four jaws at the Gryffindor table dropped simultaneously.

* * *

**(( Author's Note: Just in case any of you are lawyers looking to prosecute a poor Fanfiction author for forgetting her disclaimer: Not Mine. Next chapter: First class with the new DADA teacher. Constructive critcism, anyone? ))**


	4. Chapter 4

A Cruce Salus

**Chapter 4**

_Yeah, so I'm already dead / On the inside / But I can still pretend / With my memories and photographs / I have learned to love the lie_

_I wanna know what it's like to be awkward and innocent / Not belligerent / I wanna know how it feels to be useful and pertinent / And have common sense, yeah / **Let me in, let me in to the club / Cause I wanna belong and I need to get strong** / And if memory serves, I'm addicted to words / And they're useless._

(( LG Fuad by Motion City Soundtrack ))

* * *

Strange, sitting at the head table in the Great Hall. Strange, sitting in the Great Hall at all. The Hogwarts of 1977 was so.. pristine. This was a Hogwarts that was in its prime--a Hogwarts Ginny Weasley hadn't seen in a very long while.

What was it going to be like, teaching a bunch of students the same age as she was? Hell, some of them were probably older. After all, she'd only just recently turned seventeen. And after missing out on the last three years of her education...

Well, constant battles and strategies more than qualified her for the job, she supposed. Dumbledore had seemed hopeful when he'd asked; apparently he'd been looking unsuccessfully for a replacement for nearly half a year. The Dumbledore of this period was strange, as well. Granted, she had seen the way he dealt with Death Eaters and suspects, but perhaps she might have recognized him for who he was sooner had he not been acting so.. impatient. Yes, impatient was the word. Being in the middle of the first war must have taken a toll on everyone, the headmaster included. She wondered just how different life would have been had the Boy-Who-Lived not provided that much needed break.

There was a tense, almost strained feeling in the air, Ginny noted as she scanned the hall. The long wooden tables weren't nearly as full as they had been before.

Or.. would be. Time was a strange thing. It was only a matter of years until Harry and herself would sit at those very tables, watching Ron attempt to inhale his plate as Hermione looked on in thinly-veiled disgust. And it was only a matter of years before she'd dash through those doors, throwing spells and curses behind her in an attempt to rid herself of the masked wizards following. Perhaps two timelines were running simultaneously and that very thing was happening right now. Perhaps if she only tried hard enough, she could make contact with them. Warn them, somehow.

But that would be impossible.

"--such a confusing place at first, believe me--I remember! I once tried to get down to this very hall, only to find myself in a girl's lavatory! Got whacked on the head for that one, I did. Swear I still have the bruise! Haha.. oh, it was such a sight, those girls chasing me out as angry as I had ever seen them--"

Ginny was jolted from her thoughts by Slughorn's loud ramblings. Apparently, he'd been talking to her for a while. Good thing she was excellent at tuning people out. It came from the hours of meditation it had required to achieve things like immunization to Veritaserum and becoming an animagus. Unregistered, of course. McGonagall had tried to convince her otherwise, but the need to spy and slip away undetected outweighed the moral decision.

"Sorry, what was that?" Ginny asked.. _Samara _asked politely as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice, "I didn't hear the last bit."

"Oh, not to worry, Sam!" bellowed Slughorn, "You don't mind if I call you that, do you? Sam? Sa-mare-a is hard to remember, if you ask me. I once knew a Sam, charming fellow. Bit troublesome, though, always getting lost like that. Oh, that reminds me of the time I got lost and ended up in a girl's lavatory! Ever tell you about that one?"

"Yeah, you did.." she began, but the Potions Master cut her off and continued to re-tell the story. Honestly, Ginny doubted if he would notice if she left.

"I've never seen them that angry, thinking I did it on purpose or something, and I was only a first--"

"Horace," she interrupted, but the frustrating man didn't seem to hear her, "Horace. _Horace."_

Slughorn looked surprised that she was talking. "No need to raise our voices, dear!" he chuckled merrily.

"Yes," she responded through clenched teeth, "wouldn't want to make anyone mad, would we? But as much as I'm.. enjoying talking to you, I'd really appreciate it if you'd fetch me some Dreamless Sleep Potion."

"Well, I don't exactly have any in stock at the moment.." he faltered, not wanting to leave, but his face lit up a few seconds later. "Why don't you ask Madam Pom.. Pom-fries, I think! She's the school nurse, I'm sure she'll have some!"

Ginny pretended to look sympathetic. "Oh, I would, but you see.. I went down there earlier but she was just out! But then, you know what she said to me? She said, 'That Potions Master, Horace, why don't you ask him? Such a handsome, charming fellow; it's always a good day when we get to have a nice long talk. Pity we don't see each other more often--he's such an experienced wizard, lots to discuss in his presence. I'm sure he could brew you some, why, I've never seen a potion he made fail!'"

"She.. she said that?" asked the dumbstruck professor.

"Those exact words," she supplied so innocently that the bumbling fool was sure to believe her.

"_Well,_" he replied, looking even more cheerful (if it was possible), "I never even thought she liked me! Especially after that time she refused to accept one of my Pepper-Ups when she was out on the pretense that 'she wouldn't want to owl a sick child's parents and explain why they would not be coming home this summer.' It just goes to show you! Some people you can never tell with. Playing hard to get, I bet she is. Why, I ought to go talk to her right now!"

"Wait--don't you want to start brewing the potion first?"

"Oh, yes! I tell you, this old memory of mine.. well, I'm off to brew you some Dreamless Sleep! Enjoy your pork chops, Sam."

"Oh, I will."

Watching Slughorn practically skip out the hall, she bit back a laugh. That was just too easy.

"Well, if you can't teach your students to head off Death Eaters, at least you can teach them to head off their Potions Master."

Ginny laughed good-naturedly this time at the Transfiguration teacher's comment. Trying not to think about what would happen to her, she responded, "Well, if you can't teach them that, what can you teach them?"

* * *

"You know, I could be wrong about this, but I'm pretty sure that's not the way most _professors_ arrive."

All things considering, Sirius's comment summed up the thoughts of the group.

Well, most of them anyway.

James, who was relishing in the fact that he could finally spend some time with his newly-made girlfriend, had grown bored with the situation quickly. The two had just caught each other in a passionate kiss.

Sirius and Peter, who were sitting across from the couple, quickly turned their backs and stared up at the ceiling.

"FASCINATING, how the rain just STOPS like that before HITTING us!"

"PRESICELY, Wormtail, presicely! MAGIC, I think it's called!"

Remus looked up from his schedule.

"You two can look again, they've finished."

"Finally," said Peter, though it had only lasted ten seconds, "I think my neck is stiff."

"Damn it, you two," said Sirius, "next time just ask me for my Galleons and you can get yourself a nice hotel rom."

Lily had gone slightly red in the face. "Shut up, Black," she warned.

Sirius put his hand over his heart in stage-hurt. "I see how it is, dear Lily-flower. You've finished insulting James-the-Toerag and his accomplice, the Inflatable Head, and now you've moved on to me."

"James-the-Toerag and his accomplice, the Inflatable Head, huh? That has a nice ring to it," said James.

"Thank you, Prongs! At least someone appreciates my starving talent!"

"Padfoot, the only 'starving talent' you've got is the ability to realize when is a good time to shut up."

"You too, Moony? Now you're ALL out to get me? What's next? Peter attacking my relationship status?"

"In case you're done--"

"Actually, I have a few more things--"

"In case you're done, our first class with her is this Thursday."

Sirius and Peter looked confused.

"For Merlin's sake, you two, our first class with Professor Davidson!"

Peter cocked his head to the side.

"Mystery girl!" said Remus exasperatedly.

"Oh.." the pair said simultaneously.

"You know, I could be wrong about this, but I'm pretty sure that's not the way most _professors_ arrive."

"Yes, I think you've established that, Sirius," said Lily, wondering whether he was saying that to be annoying or if he'd forgotten he already said it. Probably the latter, she decided.

_"Well,"_ said a voice from the head table rather loudly. James, Sirius, Peter and Remus looked to the far end of the hall to see their Potions Master talking excitedly to the new teacher. She wassmiling and nodding complacently. A little while later, Slughorn bounded off to the double doors. McGonagall said something to Davidson and they both laughed appreciatively. Sirius tried not to notice how attractive this "Samara" was when she threw her head back.

As if feeling their eyes on her, her head turned in their direction and made eye contact. She nodded again as if to thank them, this time, raising her glass as well. She took a sip of it as the marauders did the same.

This small acknowledgment of each other's presence only made each party more eager to meet the other.

They were given that chance when, some twenty minutes later, Samara Davidson made her excuses and stood up to leave. Remus, who had been the only one to notice, stopped the other three in what they were doing. Making sure she was safely out of the hall, James kissed his girlfriend goodbye, and they stood up to follow.

What they didn't expect was to find the woman-in-question waiting outside for them.

She looked at the four for a moment before saying softly, "I figured."

The four were so pleased that they finally had a chance to talk properly to the person they'd been so curious about for nearly a week that when she started walking, they continued to follow her.

Apparently, this was what she wanted, as she started walking in step with them.

"Thank you," she said, "I've been in a lot of near death experiences, but I probably wouldn't have made it if you lot hadn't found me."

"How--" began Remus.

"Oh, Dumbledore told me. The infamous marauders, right?"

Sirius smiled suavely. "At your service."

She laughed. Laughing was good, right?

"If you don't mind us asking," began Remus, "how did you.. well.."

"End up the way you were?" provided James.

"I'm an auror." _Well, unofficially,_ she added silently. "Plus, I grew up in Lancaster--that's west of London--where most of the action is."

"You're an auror?" asked James.

"That's incredible!" said Sirius.

"We're both signing up as soon as we graduate."

"What's it like?"

"It must be--"

"Guys," cut in Remus.

"No, it's fine," said Samara amusedly, "To tell you the truth, it's amazing. I mean, knowing you might be dead or worse at any moment and using everything you have to prevent that.. it's undescribable."

Caught up in her depiction, she had never looked better to James and Sirius, who were captivated. "The adrenaline rush must be unreal."

"One of the many reasons I'm a suffering insomniac," she said mock dramatically.

"So," said Peter uneasily, "who did that to you? And how did you get here?"

She hesitated slightly.

"Honestly? I have absolutely no idea. How I got here, anyway. One minute I'm duelling a bastard named Parker, and the next minute.. well.. it kind of went dark. As for who did it to me--pretty much every Death Eater there."

"So let me get this straight," said James. "You came here directly from a battle?"

"Wicked," Sirius said under his breath.

Remus looked confused. "A battle miles of way? And you came here like--like _that_?"

"Like I said--absolutely no idea."

At this point, they reached the Defense classroom and office, which the boys now realized was where they had been heading.

Dissapointed, Remus began to say, "Well, we'd better--"

"Are you serious? It's only eight o'clock!"

And with that, the five walked through the classroom to her office. But where the office should have been was a common room leading to an office, a bathroom, a bedroom, a kitchen and another room whose door was shut.

"Where's the office?" asked Peter stupidly.

"I may have enlargened it a bit," Samara said, smirking, "sorry if it's a bit.. bare. I haven't really done much with it yet. Stay here."

The boys sat down on a brown leather couch as the professor disappeared into her kitchen.When she came back, she had five firewhiskies in hand. Noting their disbelieving looks after tossing one to each, she explained, "Think of it as a thank you."

James laughed. "Well, if it's a thank you, then technically, Remus shouldn't even get one."

"True," agreed Sirius, "He wasn't even there."

"Then think of it as a.. housewarming party, I suppose. But don't tell anyone.They'd probably fire me if you did."

"Nah," said James, twisting the cap off of his, "They were too desperate. Dumbledore had enough to do without filling in everyday."

"Probably; after all, I wasn't even the one to bring up the opening." Samara took off her robe and settled into an armchair. Underneath, she had on a pair of dark wash jeans and a purple silk camisole. "I prefer muggle clothing to robes. Much less stifling." Looking thoughtful, she added, "Well, actually, I prefer battle robes, but wearing them wouldn't have made a very good impression."

"It would've on us."

"Cheers. So, how did you find me? Dumbledore just told me that you levitated me to the hospital wing."

"It's a bloody good thing we excel at creating havoc," James noticed.

"Right you are, mate," said Sirius, "We had detention in the library and ran across some rather.. _unfriendly_ copies. Anyway, long story short: Peter fucked a few things up and we ended up escaping Madam Pince's and a few of her books' wrath."

"We stopped at the Astronomy Tower when all of the sudden, there was a bunch of blue light and heard someone scream."

"We found you tumbling down the stairs, unconscious."

Samara was silent for a few seconds. "Blue..?" she said eventually.

"Yeah."

"That's.. odd.."

She shook her head and took a sip from her bottle.

"Nevermind. I'm sure you don't want to talk about this all night."

"Well, we wouldn't mind," said Sirius smoothly, "but what do you say we do something a bit more fun?"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Padfoot?"

"Pretty sure I am, Prongs."

"Miss Davidson, what do you say to a game of I Never?"

* * *

**Author's Note: You Should Probably Read This. I'd Appreciate It, Anyway.**

I'm not terribly fond of leaving massive author notes, but I have a few things to say.

First off, sorry for the long wait. I've had a lot of things going on in my life right now, including my sister and I crashing & trashing her car, which was really scary and took a while to recuperate from. I haven't had much time to write, but the reviews made me really want to, so thank you to everyone who took the time to comment. I try to respond to everyone, but like I said, I haven't had much time, so if I didn't respond to you yet from last chapter, let me know and I will.

Also, I'm the kind of author who has to wait for inspiration to hit her or writing will become a chore. When that happens, I'm prone to abandoning. Thankfully for you guys, I have lots more time on my hand and inspiration hit me quite suddenly last night. The next chapter should be out within the weekas long as there is at least **35 total reviews for the story.**

Hope this makes up for the long wait! I'm quite proud of this chapter, so have fun reviewing. Please.


	5. Chapter 5

A Cruce Salus

**Chapter 5**

_**And all our sins / Came back to haunt us in the end** / To hang around / And tap us on the shoulder / And smile silent / It's all implied / You'll die trying to live this down / You might as well forget it_

_Still I'm convinced / Wondering what if is the worst thing there is_

(( Mistakes We Knew We Were Making by Straylight Run ))

_

* * *

_

Previously:

_"Well, we wouldn't mind," said Sirius smoothly, "but what do you say we do something a bit more fun?"_

_"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Padfoot?"_

_"Pretty sure I am, Prongs."_

_"Miss Davidson, what do you say to a game of I Never?"

* * *

_

"I Never?" Ginny repeated, amused.

"Guys," said Remus quietly, "Do you really think we should be playing this with..."

"Well, there's another technicality for you, Moony! She's _technically_ not even a professor until tomorrow morning. Not even _our _professor til Thursday afternoon."

"That's the stupidest reasoning I've ever heard, Padfoot."

"Really? I thought it was pretty intuitive," commented Ginny, eyes sparkling.

"Then we're all in?" asked James, staring pointedly at Remus, who sighed exasperatedly.

"All in," he said, though his friend had already started placing Undecievable Charms on the bottles.

"No passing, drinking falsely, or quitting before you run out of firewhiskey."

"Or..?" asked Ginny inquisitively.

James smiled sweetly. "Don't cheat and you won't have to find out!"

"One condition, then. What happens here, stays here."

"I like the way you think!"

"Right you are, Padfoot. It'll be just like Mexico!"

The other four stared at James for a while.

"You know," he tried to explain, "like 'What happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico!'"

"James..." said Remus slowly, as if wondering if his friend was aware of what he was about to say,"We're in England. Not Mexico."

"I know!" James replied, frustrated that no one understood him, "But that doesn't change the fact that what happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico!"

"...What happens in Mexico?" asked Peter curiously.

"I don't know! It stays there!"

Finally, Sirius started laughing.

"At least someone gets it."

"Nah, don't flatter yourself, mate. I was just laughing 'cause you made an ass out of yourself."

"Wow. Thanks, Sirius."

"Don't mention it. What are friends for, anyway?"

Ginny was smiling at the whole situation. It had been a long time since she could forget the world for a night and drown herself in something frivolous like this.

"Right," said James, "Let's just start."

"Something easy, Prongs."

James thought for a moment, then decided on, "I've haven't been drunk in the past year."

Each Marauder drank in turn, then turned to Ginny, waiting for her to take a sip as well. When she didn't, their eyes widened incredulously.

"How could you never have been drunk if you have this pile of firewhiskey in your kitchen?" queried Sirius bluntly.

Ginny laughed. "Let me explain. A couple of years ago, my friend was working on a hangover potion. Just a hint, here--you should probably never work on a hangover under the influence of a hangover. I tested it, and it worked.. a little_ too _well. Alcohol hasn't had an affect on me since."

At seeing their faces, she added, "It's really not that bad. I can drink as much as I want and watch everyone else act like idiots. Great blackmail opportunity."

"Ah, but you'd never blackmail us, would you, milady?"

"Well, Black, I'm pretty sure it'd be illegal to blackmail students."

"You forget--we aren't your students until Thursday afternoon!"

"Then I'll just have to find a way to get something on you by then. Maybe find out a few of your secrets?"

James looked affronted. "I, for one, have never had any deep dark secrets!"

Remus, looking uncomfortable, was the first to drink. Ginny felt sorry for him, but quickly covered it up with a sip of her own.

"Maybe," said Sirius, "we'll have to find our yours instead."

"Go ahead and try," she said confidently.

"I would," he said sadly, "but it's your turn."

Interested, she went with, "_I-_" a pause and a pointed look- "have never done anything illegal." When all four of them drank (Sirius and James grinning like mad and exchanging high fives), she drank along with them.

"Well, _I," _said Sirius dramatically, "have never done anything Azkaban-worthy."

The Marauders looked undecided for a moment (_probably wondering whether or not being illegal animagi qualifies_, she thought), but eventually decided against drinking.

Ginny, however, did not.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" said James, slightly tipsy, who was giving her a look that could've been described as akin to respect.

Remus went next.

"I've never been in a real duel before." Seeing James and Sirius about to drink, he added, "School duels don't count, you two." Once again, Ginny was the only one.

Looking down at her bottle, she stated, "One more sip, boys. Choose wisely."

Peter hadn't drank much and was still curious about the mystery that was their Defense Professor.. or would be this Thursday afternoon, anyway. "I've never killed a man," he said softly.

James and Sirius, who had been giggling like girls a few seconds before stopped and stared at him, then Ginny. After a moment, her bottle started to shake. Rolling her eyes, she downed another sip.

"What do you expect? I'm an auror and the Death Eaters haven't exactly invited me to tea yet. Voldemort might not have as much influence here, but he's in full swing back in.. Lancaster."

Peter sucked in a breath at the mention of You-Know-Who's name, but the other boys didn't notice. James looked as though he'd just realized Ginny's bottle was empty.

"Damn," he said, "Game over, I guess."

With that, he made to get up from the couch, but just ended up tripping over his foot and toppling down on Sirius.

"Aargh!" was Sirius's muffled cry, "Get off me, you sick, sick boy!"

James rolled over and both of them tried getting up together, leaning on each other for support. Unfortunately, Sirius leaned on James too much, who crumpled under his weight. Without anything to hold on to, he, too, fell back on the couch, defeated.

Ginny threw her head back and laughed for a long time. "You lot can't hold your liquor very well, can you?"

"S'not our fault," slurred James.

She quickly performed a sobering charm. Sirius looked like he had just waken up.

"Woah," he said, looking around, "Oh, good. I was beginning to get a bit worried when there were two of you, Remus."

"Two of Remus?" asked James, "That's not as bad as the three Peters I had."

Sirius winced. "Too right, my friend."

Peter looked confused for a second. Then, "Hey!"

"Come on," said Remus, "Let's head back before more 'stays here' than it should."

"You're too late," Ginny told him with a smile, "But just for good measure--keep that you found me here, as well."

This confused Remus slightly, but he nodded.

"Thanks again."

"It was our pleasure, fair lady!" said Sirius valiantly.

"The Marauders: Saving Damsels In Distress Near You," added James.

"With their accomplice, the Inflatable Head, of course," said Peter as they got up to leave.

James and Sirius gave him a look. "Don't ever say that again, Peter," said Sirius.

"What?" he asked, "You did!"

"Well, Wormtail, that is because _I _am handsome, charming and clever."

"So?"

"_So,_ it sounds much better when a handsome, charming, clever person says it. When you say it, it sounds stupid."

They made their way to the door, Peter grumbling, when James looked back.

"You're not gonna go all weirdo, I'm-a-professor-and-I-love-rules-hear-me-roar on us on Thursday, are you?"

Ginny laughed again, taking note that this was the most she'd laughed in three years, and it felt good.

"No," she reassured them, "No, there's not a chance of that."

* * *

Thursday was two days away. Scratch that, Thursday was two years away. 

Davidson must be a damn well amazing teacher, was what they concluded. They were already in awe of the new professor for many reasons, including her disregard for the rules and being an experienced auror, but it made them even more excited to have a class with her when they saw the reactions of students who'd already had one.

By far, she was their best teacher yet, and they hadn't even had any classes with her!

It was weird to think of her as a professor. After all, she hadn't been when they found her. The fact that she acted more like their friend than anything else that night didn't make the teacher image any less easy to swallow. Though from what the Gryffindor fourth and sixth years were saying, her being their professor was far from a bad thing.

Their curiousity about her had only been increased after they got a chance to talk. Why did her past seem so dark, and if it was, why was she still so carefree? How good was she going to be teaching them if she would drink with them? Who had she killed, and had they deserved it?

Yes, Thursday couldn't come faster for them.

And so when it did, they were the first ones outside her door.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

I'm not very fond of this chapter and it's somewhat short, but I hope you all appreciate it because I worked hard to get two chapters out in two days. Reviews would be a nice thank you. Especially if they contain constructive criticism. I know I said I'd hold out for 35 reviews, but what can I say? I'm terrible at waiting when I get back in the swing of things. Still, one review was pretty pathetic for what I thought was my best chapter.

**Thank you to twinsofthesky, my sole reviewer. This chapter's dedicated to you.**


	6. Chapter 6

A Cruce Salus

**Chapter 6 **

_The plans that I had were quickly destroyed / The problem was one I couldn't avoid / They welcomed me to stay overnight / I'm too tired to complain so I just might / And I wonder_

_**Will I ever make it home / To the place I recognize** / Far from here and where I've been / And all the places that I've been shown / Will I ever make it home / Can they keep me here for good / Where I hardly know a soul / And **my fear keeps going on**_

(( Will I Ever Make It Home by Ingram Hill ))

* * *

Previously: 

_Yes, Thursday couldn't come faster for them._

_And so when it did, they were the first ones outside her door._

* * *

The door to the classroom was open. The Marauders walked in, grateful it was finally time for the lesson they had heard so much about. 

James snorted out loud at the thought of him looking forward to a class. Unfortunately, a group of passing girls were walking in when he did and they took it offensively. Sitting down in a huff on the other side of the room, they began talking furiously about "that Potter" and "do we really look that bad?"

As more of the combined NEWT level Defense Against the Dark Arts students strode in, their teacher did as well. She was wearing a cleaner, less mangled version of what she'd been wearing that night on Christmas break. Battle robes, they supposed from what she'd told them earlier.

"Right," she began when everyone had been seated, "Ground rules."

A few people groaned.

"Well, more like ground rule. Don't ever call me Professor or Professor Davidson. It makes me feel too much older than I am. It'd be like one of your classmates calling you Sir, or Ma'am every time they saw you. Samara's fine, as long as you don't call me Sam."

At this, most looked appreciatively at their peers.

"I kind of jumped into this at an odd time, so would anyone like to tell me what you've covered so far?"

The redhead seated next to James Potter raised her hand slowly after noticing that no one else had.

"Yes, Ms..?"

"Evans, Pr- Samara," said Lily hastily, "We've covered _Expelliarmus_, werewolves, safety precautions and boggarts."

Samara raised her eyes at this. "That's it?" she asked disbelievingly, "Dumbledore's been teaching you, and that's all you've gotten to?"

Jame's girlfriend hesitated. "Well, we only had about a month with him, which was four classes for us. He taught the safety precautions and was starting going to start up duelling, but we only got to Expelliarmus before he found you."

"I guess I'm really gonna have my work cut out for me..." muttered the professor under her breath, seemingly dissapointed at the progress. To the class, she said, "Right. Now, personally, it's my belief that Defense Against the Dark Arts is the most essential class at Hogwarts. Transfiguration can give you an upperhand, but it's normally a split-second upperhand. Herbology is dead useful and may save your life, but it won't prevent whatever it is that will have given you the need for it. Potions is a combination of that, and Divination won't help you unless you're a true Seer (which I doubt any of you are). As for the rest, well.. I've always said that there's a reason they're optional."

Remus raised his eyebrows ever so slightly at the last comment, while Peter and Sirius shared a brief but enthused glance.

"You all should be well aware that there is a war going on in the outside world. Inside these halls, you are safe. You are protected, and not just by the halls themselves, but by the fact that you are still students. Even if it only lasts a few months, you have that time before you will be forced to face the reality before you. At the moment, all of you are caught in the middle. You are no longer children, but until you make the crucial decisions concerning the paths you will go down, the sides you will choose... you are not yet adults. Believe me, though--you will be, and very soon."

Silence greeted Davidson's ears as she continued passionately with her speech.

"Now that may seem harsh, but the outside world is harsher and it is my job to prepare you for that. I guaruntee you that you will be grateful I'm taking your education seriously. To send you unprepared into the world as it is today would be foolish and unresponsible. I'm not going to sweet-talk your way through this course, because frankly, I don't like liars. If you'd rather be told wonderful falseties about what a nice place the world is, you're telling me that you would rather be dead before the age of thirty."

The better part of the class now listened in rapt attention; even the pencil tapping and nail biting had ceased almost completely.

"What I'm trying to get across to you is that I need you to take this course as seriously as I am. But even having all of that in consideration, know that I am still here to help you and I am not here to be the strict professor that you can't approach. In this classroom I will have you doing what is necessary to your survival in the wizarding world, but that doesn't mean that I can't be your friend. It hasn't been that long since I was a student myself."

Samara looked around at the class's expressions--a collage of surprised, uneasy, intent, apprehensive and appreciative faces greeted her. It was obvious none of them had been expecting such a forward introduction, although essentially all those faces--surprised, uneasy, intent, apprhensive, or appreciative--had some form of respect chiseled in their outline.

Laughing, she said, "Well, now that I've sufficiently unsettled you all, why don't we spend the rest of the class letting everyone else talk? Ask me whatever you want."

She quickly realized that the only people comfortable enough to raise their hands were James, Sirius and Remus. Seemingly not surprised, she called on Sirius.

"If it 'hasn't been that long since you graduated yourself', then how are you so.. so.."

"Old?" supplied James.

Most of his peers turned to stare at him, shocked that he would be at ease enough to risk angering such a vehement professor.

"I wasn't under the impression that I looked_ that _old," she only replied amusedly.

"That's not what he means," Sirius explanied, "what he's trying to say is that you look twenty-five, but you sound fifty."

"What an accurate description, Mr. Black, but as you and your friends already know, I gained this demeanor from being an auror. And believe me, being an auror, you learn and see a lot more than you ever thought you'd have to. Plus, it doesn't hurt that I grew up in.. _Lancaster,_ where the threats are much more real then they are here."

"Yes, Remus?" she added, realizing that the lycanthrope still had his hand raised.

"If you don't mind me asking, how old_ are_ you?"

Samara grinned almost triumphantly, as though she had been hoping someone would ask that particular question.

"Well," she began, "Sirius seems to think I look twenty-five. What would you guess?"

Remus looked slightly uncomfortable now, hoping he wouldn't say the wrong thing. "Er.. I would suppose.. well, I'd rather think.. twenty-five, maybe?"

"Safe answer, I suppose.. anyone else?"

A few in the rest of the room, more comfortable now that three out of the four Marauders had broken the ice, tentatively raised their hands.

She called on a sandy blonde Ravenclaw named Peyton. "30?" she said carelessly, as though it really didn't concern her.

Sanara's expression was hard to read as she nodded and moved on to Marc, a Hufflepuff. "27," he stated confidently.

The process was repeated for another couple of minutes, until nearly everyone had taken a stab at the professor's age. Most guessed somewhere in the range of 25 to 30, but there were a few Slytherins who coldly answered numbers 35 plus. There were also a few, scattered, who took their chances with ages between 22 and 24, and one Hufflepuff--Chris Sanders--even said fifteen in jest.

Smiling wickedly, Samara gave them the answer they were so curious about. "To be absolutely honest, Chris came the closest. Sorry, _Parker,_" she said distinctly, "but I'm not 37. I'm more something like eighteen."

Staggered, the room fell silent once more, but not for long. People started talking at once, including the Marauders.

"--eighteen!"

"She must've just graduated!"

"--same age as me!"

"So you're saying I could teach next year if--"

"Dumbledore wouldn't have hired me if he didn't think I wasn't more than qualified to teach all of you," she interjected. Noticing the skeptical looks, "All right. That's a lie. But I _am _more than qualified."

"You're eighteen!" said Chris as though she was out of her mind.

"Age is no measure of experience," she responded, "Because someone is twenty-two, twenty-five, or even thirty-seven, it doesn't guarentee that they have more knowledge or hands-on encounters than someone who is even a decade their prior."

Remus, Peter, Sirius and James, on the other hand, weren't all that surprised. After the initial shock, they realized things made much more sense for her to be a teenager--like why a professor would openly agree to playing a drinking game with her students.

"And what kinds of 'hands-on encounters' have _you _had?" sneered Parker.

Samara gave a snort of laughter. "Ironic that you should ask that.. but I won't get into that right now. As for what encounters I've had? More than you can know at your age. I haven't been properly schooled since my fifth year, when our headmaster was murdered in cold blood. Since then I've learned more than any institution could teach me. I sincerely hope that none of you ever have to experience some of the tortures that have been practiced on me."

Alice Berkely slowly raised her hand. "Is that why you have that scar on your face? I mean, I don't want to be rude, but it's a little hard not to notice it. Shouldn't that have healed by now?"

"Actually, that's a good point," whispered Remus to his friends.

"Surprised you didn't think of that yet," teased Sirius.

"Neither did you."

"Now, since when have I been claiming to be the smart one?"

Samara, who had apparently been thinking of a way to put into words what she wanted to say, suddenly spoke up.

"The human body is not perfect, and the Cruciatus curse is a very powerful spell. I assume you are all aware of what it is? An extremely Dark curse, and if used, it can guaruntee you a lifetime stay in Azkaban. It triggers the nerve endings in your body to create as much pain as possible--not unlike a muggle taser gun, but worse. Should you ever find youreslf in a situation where the curse is not lifted for a number of hours, your body will begin to detoriate. It's an extremely slow process, which only makes it worse, as it rips your flesh open down to the bone. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not lengthen that process."

Noticing Lily had tightened the pressure on his hand, he looked over at her disgusted face. "Hey," he whispered, "Don't worry. You know I'd never let anyone do something like that to you."

Her perfect green emeralds melted at these words, but both she and her boyfriend hit Sirius over the head when he mock-coughed, "Cornball."

"So it is a curse scar?" continued Alice, looking repulsed, "If it's alright to ask, I mean.. I don't want to.. well.. how exactly _did_ you 'find yourself in that situation?'"

Adressing the class, Samara responded, "First off, don't worry about angering me or going too far with your questions. There are a few things that I won't discuss with you, but I highly doubt you'd think to bring them up. I gave you the opportunity to get to know me because I can't do as good a job preparing you if you know nothing about me. And as for your questions, Alice, yes, and I'm an auror. It goes without saying that I'm not the most popular person amongst Death Eaters."

"Yeah," interrupted a Ravenclaw, Ash, "but why were they using the Cruciatus on you? What did they want? And how long were you under it?"

"Information. And no," she added when Ash began to speak, "they didn't manage to get it out of me for nearly 23 hours straight, so don't bother asking what it was.

"Anyone have any different questions?"

People were getting more comfortable with the entity at the front of the room, the Marauders soon discovered--more personal questions were being confronted. For the next twenty minutes, she was asked everything from her favorite color to her favorite subject (a question Peter was rewarded for by four hands hitting him at once).

Eventually, Sirius asked mock suggestively, "Are you single?"

"There a reason you're asking, Mr. Black?" she replied teasingly.

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."

Smiling a little wider, she answered, "Yes, at the moment."

And with that note, the bell rang. He could've been imagining it, but Sirius thought the pitch was slightly more cheerful than it had been after his last class.

* * *

Ginny flopped down on her bed, closing her eyesand laughing out loud. Probably the anxiety, she supposed, as she was nowhere near cheerful. Her first week of lessons had been mentally exhausting. Seeing people who would be dead, people who would be worse than dead, people she would like nothing more than to strangle herself.. 

Terrified of a ripple affect, she was forced to keep her mouth shut and her brain open. Voicing the tiniest hint or implication of what was to come could possibly create a horrific paradox she had no way to reverse.

And speaking of reversing things, how the hell was she going to get herself out of this mess? Was this destiny, or just some cruel joke? Maybe she was lying in a pristine bed in Saint Mungo's dreaming up this elaborate universe. Maybe if she just opened her eyes, she'd be surrounded by Healers and their assistants and she'd never have to deal with teaching people she loved and people she hated more than life itself..

But no. The only things surrounding her when she opened her eyes was her meager attempt at creating a warm environment for her bedchambers. Yes, Ginny Weasley was extraordinary at many things, but making a place easy to relax in, or even just relaxing, was not one of those things.

Maybe she was just insane, and she wasn't in Saint Mungo's yet, but sure enough, she'd soon be carted away by witches and wizards in white attempting to restrain her. Wait--crazy people don't think they're crazy.. right?

Maybe she should just stop attempting to dance around the subject and confront it. She was really in the past. She was really at Hogwarts. She was really teaching people decades her prior. What were people back home doing without her? She and Harry were signs of hope; beacons of light in an otherwise shell of a world. At least they still had Harry.

Or was she even missed at all? Was time frozen, standing still, until she returned? Or were the two timelines running synonymously? So many questions. Too many questions. Uncertainties. She hated them. Still, what was the _point _of sending her here? What did the Death Eaters hope to accomplish? She was only making sure her students would be at less of a risk when facing them. Perhaps they didn't foresee her becoming a teacher. Merlin knows she didn't.

What if.. what if this was a way to taunt her? To dangle in front of her something that could never be. Oh yes, she could very well warn this world of the dangers to come, but would only ensure Voldemort a longer stay in power. What if they devised this plan to get rid of her, but at the same time sent her back hinging on the factor that she would be overwhelmed with the desire to prevent the same events from occuring? Or that even if she refrained from doing what she so desperately wanted to, it would be torture to her mind.

Well, one thing was for sure. It _was _torture.

That's when it hit her. A loophole. A way to defeat Voldemort and his cronies without them ever seeing it coming. A way to spare the people she loved; a way to end this pointless suffering.

_A sign of hope, a beacon of light.._

* * *

**(( A/N: Sorry, not sure when you'll find out what plan she's thinking about, but it won't be for another couple chapters. Good? Bad? Hated it? Loved it? Constructive criticism? Review! ))**


	7. Chapter 7

A Cruce Salus:

**Chapter 7**

_**Thank you for your pity** / You are too kind_

_And you might say it's self-inflicted / But you see that's contradictive / **Why on earth would anyone practice self-destruction?**_

_And pain opinions are sitcom feeding / They don't know that their minds are teething / Makes me want to give mankind a beating_

(( Bad Habit by The Dresden Dolls ))

_

* * *

_

Lily Evans was lost in thought as she meandered aimlessly through the stone hallways of Hogwarts. It was a Saturday morning--the morning of her and James's first trip to Hogsmeade together. Mind you, it wasn't exactly a Hogsmeade weekend, but that didn't have to stop them. Upon first meeting Lily, you might think that she was a stickler for rules, someone whose toes were so far from the line that she couldn't even see it. Fortunately for her, there was a lot more to her than noticed upon first meeting. She didn't mind bending the rulse occassionally, as long as they didn't bend so far they broke. And another thing--she had never truly hated James Potter, as many people chose to believe. She merely thought he was a stupid teenage boy doing stupid teenage boy things.

You see, she had always been more mature than was natural for a girl of her age. Unlike the group of girls she shared her room with, she didn't fight toe and nail for use of the floor lenth mirror they shared. Sure, every now and then she stenciled on eyeliner or did something extra for her appearance, but it wasn't something that was constantly on her mind. It was lucky for her that a natural glow emanated from her regardless of whether she tried or not.

Lily was a very deep, down to earth person. Her peers enjoyed conversing with her--the ones who bothered to get to know her, that is. She wasn't about to go out of her way to prove herself an interesting person to talk to. No, she preferred to sift throught the fake friends by letting the real friends find her. Appearances aren't always everything, and they can be very decieving. Looking back, the majority of her close group had admitted to being pleasantly surprised at how different she was after hanging out with her more often.

This was why she couldn't understand James Potter's motivations in liking her. On the outside, she was a very dull, plain, uninteresting person. She had certainly never been very close to him, so for a long time she wrote it off as being a trophy. James didn't ask very many girls out, and when he did, he had long-lasting, meaningful relationships with them--unlike his best friend, who could nearly always be seen with a new flavor of the week. Because of this, girls nearly never rejected him. Nearly, because Lily had. And so she told herself that Potter's infatuation with her wasn't heartfelt or sincere--just bitterness at being denied something he had requested.

Perhaps she would have said yes earlier if it wasn't for those thoughts. Why would the school's A-list Quidditch star be attracted to such a boring girl like Lily? However, love _is_ blind James told her many times that it's something people just can't explain. You aren't able to point at Fate and force it to let you love whomever you choose. If you could, he'd be head over heels with Peyton Cardinal, or some other blonde ditz like her.

After a while, though, James grew up as everyone has to. The Death Eater attack and murder of his grandparents over the sixth year Christmas break had hit him hard. He even stopped asking Lily out, much to her surprise. Then, when he came back in the seventh year, it was like he was a completely different person. He still attempted to court her, but went about it the right way instead of performing utter acts of idiocy in an attempt to impress her. He actually got to know her. And when he got to know her, of course, he found out about the Lily underneath. Eventually, she began to think of him as a friend, and soon after he asked her out for the first time in nearly a year. This time, though, she said yes. It wasn't a passing comment in the hallway or a scribbled note in class to which she would always automatically respond "No, Potter", but a romantic, thought out occasion.

Ironic, that for someone who was so misunderstood, Lily wouldn't realize that she wasn't the only one who had more to her than what you saw everyday. James Potter surprised her in every way he could, and he was one of the sweetest guys she had ever been with. A bit too protective, maybe, but that was something she couldn't hold against him.

Lily was so deep into her thoughts that when Sirius rounded the corner, she collided into his Quidditch-toned body and sent them both tumbling to the floor.

"God, Sirius, you can be so clumsy!" she hissed frustratedly and she gathered the contents of her spilled bag, "It's a good thing I don't have any ink in here."

"_I'm _clumsy?" Sirius asked disbelievingly as he picked himself up from the hard floor, "_I _was watching where I was going! You're the one who--"

"Shut up," she whispered suddenly, hearing hushed voices arguing in the next hall, one of whom she was positive was the Headmaster. Realizing why she'd quieted him, he did as he was instructed and the two of them managed to catch bits and pieces of the conversation. The girl's voice, they soon realized, was Professor Davidson's.. or Samara, as she preferred them to call her.

"--wouldn't make a difference," came Dumbledore's voice, sounding doubtful--of what, they had no idea.

"It would make all the difference," sounded Samara's voice heatedly.

"--not sure what you're trying to accomplish--"

"--daft? Have you _read _the papers lately?"

Unfortunately, the pair appeared to turn a corner and the voices faded away.

"Dumbledore's office.."

"What?"

"They were going to Dumbledore's office!"

"...your point?"

"Well, we can follow them, Lily," he said speaking slowly, as though talking to a two year old.

"We can't--" she began, but it didn't appear to matter, as Sirius grabbed her arm and started half runing, half dragging her down the corridors.

She struggled at first, slightly angry that she was being hauled around like an object, but then decided to just laugh and go with it. Even before James told her about Samara's true arrival, she couldn't deny that she was interested in such an unusual witch. Soon, they reached those irritated gargoyles who sprang open as soon as Sirius said the password. (Shocking, that he should know it.) Taking note of the finger he held to his lips, they crept quietly up the spiraling staircase and pressed their ears to the door.

"Absolutely not. I will not allow it," they heard Dumbledore say sternly.

"I wasn't aware that when I came to you, I was asking for permission."

Lily leaned closer to the door.

"Do you realize the full implications of what you're suggesting?"

"Do _you _realize that there are two people standing outside your door?"

Before Lily and Sirius had time to process the last sentence, the door they were leaning on flew open, sending the pair toppling to the floor on top of each other for the second time that day.

Embarassed, Lily rolled off of Sirius just as he said, "Merlin, Lily! You're earrings _aren't_ outside Dumbledore's office? We've searched everywhere, where could they possibly--"

To her surprise, it wasn't the Headmaster's, but Samara's eyes that were twinkling today. The Headmaster looked positively stressed, and said to them in a strained voice, "I do hope for your sakes that you've overheard nothing of importance."

Before they had a chance to explain or think up some excuse, their professor stood up and responded with an, "Oh, lighten up, Albus. You'll kill all the fun."

For some reason they had yet to understand, she placed a certain emphasis on the word 'kill'. Dumbledore's eyes betrayed him with a stubborn recognition, but the students were only more confused.. and even more, curious.

"I'll be going, then," she continued and made her way to the door, "Just think about it."

It took Lily and Sirius about two seconds to realize that they should be going as well if they wanted to escape punishment.

"Bye, then," said Sirius, and the two of them dashed out almost as quickly as they had come in. Running down the steps and laughing all the way, Lily didn't even notice Samara until she'd crashed into her and tumbled down the rest of the moving staircase. (Not a pleasant experience, I assure you.)

"Merlin, I am not having good luck with this today," she commented upon seeing her professor still firm on her feet, "Would you _shut up?_"

Sirius, who had been laughing hysterically, attempted to stop as she had asked. However, his face held a smile that soon turned into poorly covered snickers.

"I'm sorry," apologized Samara, running down the stairs to help her up.

"You should've seen your face!"

"Shut up, Sirius!"

The mutt finally ceased his infernal chortling and turned to the other girl in the room. "Care for us to escort you to.. wherever it is that you're going?" he queried smoothly.

"Of course," she replied, "but I assure you, this castle isn't as hard to manuever through as everyone makes it out to be. I was just going back to my quarters; you know where they are."

Lily raised her eyebrows at this last comment.

Laughing, her teacher said, "Oh, that's not what it sounded like. I ran into the Marauders on the first night I was here--I was on my way back to my quarters then, as well."

Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Er.. Lily knows. James's girlfriend and all, some privacy code they were going on about. You're a good liar, though."

"Thanks. But I don't lie. I improvise. Now that we've got all that settled, are you two coming or not?"

This whole situation felt rather odd to Lily. Nevertheless, she found herself enjoying the company of the witch who was only a year her prior. Sirius did most of the talking, but somehow she felt that her teacher was taking a certain interest in her. When they reached the office behind the DADA classroom, Samara waved her hand across a portrait of a wizard Lily didn't recognize, and accompanied it with a "_Mortalitas._

"I'd ask you to come in, but I have a lot to do at the moment."

"That's fine," said Lily, "We'll see you on Tuesday."

Suddenly Sirius took on a faraway expression. "Yeah. Tuesday."

As soon as their teacher was out of sight, Sirius grabbed her hand and ran out the door. "Ugh!" she said, yanking her hand back and severly annoyed at this point, "What was that for? Lily hasn't gotten knocked around enough today, is that it?"

"No, don't you see?" asked Sirius with a manaical gleam in his eyes, "She's hiding something. That's obvious. Now that we've got her password, we can find out what it is!"

* * *

**(( A/N: Don't worry, they won't find out she's from the future. Any guesses as to what they will find? Sorry it's so short. Review! ))**


	8. Chapter 8

A Cruce Salus:

**Chapter 8**

_**I've been too busy with my memories you made me / I don't think I'll get over it** / To be honest / I can't see how this could be fair / I'm so alone / But you seem to be just fine_

_Don't ask me to think / Good intentions won't change everything_

(( Hammers and Hearts by Daphne Loves Derby ))

* * *

Ginny removed the wand from her temple and deposited the silvery mass of memories in her engraved Pensieve. It had been a birthday gift from Harry. Not the memories--no, those were a gift of a different kind. The Pensieve had been shrunken enough to fit a self-concealing pocket in her battle robes during that final duel with Parker. Quite handy, to know that trick, especially since an item of this much value was certainly not an easy thing to come by in the 70s. 

It bothered her that she couldn't get peace of mind without ridding herself of the thoughts that were now swirling around the stone basin. Placing them in a pensieve didn't help her forget them--she doubted she could ever forget--but it helped her to shove them to the back of her mind for a while. What nagged at her conscience was that she always thought herself stronger than sinking to dealing with her past by ignoring it. It was a form of denial, really.

Ah, well. It _was _easier to ignore it than to confront it. And who could blame her? Certainly no one who had seen the things she'd seen, felt the things she'd felt, witnessed the things she'd witnessed...

For very few had. The Order had been slowly dwindling down for a long time now--the Weasleys were now survived by merely Charlie, Fred, Ron and herself. The death of George had, of course, taken quite a toll on his twin brother. It was a shame, really, Fred's sobered attitude on life. It was much easier to forget the world for the night with a pair like those two had been.

Because sometimes you did need to forget the world for a few hours. This was generally was why she enjoyed meditation so much. It was nice to slip away and be completely at peace; something she hadn't been able to accomplish normally since before her first year. Alcohol used to have that effect, but meditation was the only thing that worked for her ever since that potion debacle. Remus had taught her how to do it. Unfortunately, they never had many chances to practice it together, as that bastard Wormtail strangled the life force out of him with his silver arm during Remus's hindmost transformation. Ginny always wondered whether or not he was glad to go, his life playing out the way it had. The werewolf had always been cruelly segregated, and the first people who had accepted him were shortly handed fates nearly as miserable. It couldn't have been easy, all those years that he had believed Sirius guilty--the poor wizard had been completely alone with nothing but the thought that his three of his best friends had been murdered by the fourth.

Things like that, Ginny knew from experience, were hard to forget--which was why she used her intricately carved Pensieve so frequently.

And usually, after she wondered if Remus was glad to go, she wondered if she would be as well. The last three years had been far from easy--there mere idea of what she was doing at this very moment was a reminder that not all the scars she attained were physically detrimental. There had been so many instances where she questioned what would happen if she decided to just end it, once and for all. Perhaps she would've if the world didn't need her so much. If it was something that would affect her and only her, it might be more easily approachable. Fortunately for everyone else, she wasn't that selfish.

Jolted out of her thoughts by the arrival of her second year Hufflepuffs, Ginny decided there was no time to move it from her office to her quarters. Taking one last, almost regretful, look at the memories, she strode into the classroom and began another lesson.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," said Lily, who was currently lounging on a bed in the seventh year boys' dormitory, "we go down to Professor Davidson's quarters, hope she's not there and find.. what, exactly?" 

"Oh, Lily," Sirius sighed, "you make it sound like it would never work."

At Lily's raised eyebrows and Remus's poorly covered up snort, he added, "Look, the professors have a meeting tonight and all of them have to attend. It's foolproof!"

"How exactly did you find this out?" asked James from the bed he was sharing with Lily.

"McGonagall was grumbling about not having any free nights to give me detention with," answered Sirius as though this was a perfectly normal occurence. Which, considering who they were talking about, it probably was.

"Why couldn't she just let another teacher take you some other night?" queried Remus.

"Couldn't. They'd already given me detention for most of them."

"Now, why am I not surprised?" he commented dryly.

"What if she changes the password?" said Peter curiously, " I mean, she seems like the paranoid type to me."

The other four occupants of the dormitory stared at him with similar looks of increduality.

"What?" he asked unsurely.

"Wormtail," breathed James,"You just said something completely relevant!"

"And useful!" added Lily.

"Gee, thanks," Peter said bitterly, rolling his eyes.

"He's not _that _bad," said Remus, who was usually the only one to defend their somewhat dim companion.

Finally closing his mouth, Sirius continued. "Very good, Wormtail--you have successfully displayed insight. We just might not have been wasting our time with you all these years--but back to the matter at hand. She won't change the password."

"Oh, of course not," said Remus sarcastically.

"Thank you, Moony!

"...Wait."

The annoyed seventh year glared at Lily, who quickly attempted to stop her snickering (attempted being the operative word, here).

"Sirius," she began in a chastising tone, "She's already proven to us that she's a powerful witch whose had Death Eaters on her trail for most of her life. It would be expecting a bit too much to say the password--which she knows we know--would be the same tonight."

"She's got a point."

"Quiet, James. She's got you whipped."

"I am not whipped," he said heatedly.

"Of course you aren't," his best friend answered soothingly.

"I-"

"Once again, back to the matter at hand. Well, if she does change the password, there's only one way to find out."

"By going ahead with your idiotic plan and hoping for the best? Why don't we just save ourselves the trouble? Then you could finish that Potions essay neither of you have started and avoid yet another detention."

"Ah, Lily-flower.. you may have Jamesie here wrapped around your finger, but--"

"I. Am. Not. _Whipped!_" James made out through gritted teeth.

"Yes, yes, you've already established that you feel this way, Prongs. Now are we in, or am I doing this by myself?"

"What the hell," said Lily, "In."

"In, then, I guess," agreed James, who recieved a look from Sirius as though to say, _See?_

"In," repeated Remus, watching James chuck his pillow at Sirius's face.

Peter sat up eagerly. "In- wait. I have detention with Filch tonight!"

"For what?" asked Sirius, hurling the pillow back to James, who ducked--sending the flying object spinning towards Peter.

"Oomph," the winded boy grumbled as he picked himself up from the bed, "for that dungbomb that accidentally went off on McGonagall."

"Didn't we all do that?" inquired James.

"Yeah, we did!" said Sirius, laughing, "Remember the look on Minnie's face? ...Why is Peter the only one in detention for that?"

"Because," he started angrily, "you left me in the middle of it when it backfired on us!"

"Oh, right... no hard feelings, then?"

Sirius's face was bombarded with a pillow for a second time.

"I thought all there was a staff meeting tonight," said Remus.

"Ah, but Filch isn't a professor."

"Then why don't _you _have detention with him as well?"

"Because dear Minnie said she wanted to supervise my punishment herself. I told you she had a thing for me."

Sirius was lucky the pillow was already on his bed, as it probably would've ended up there at that last comment. Just for good measure, he stood up and chucked it at Remus. Remus, whose bed was nearest to the open window, casually threw it out.

"Oi!" yelled James, "I have to sleep on that thing!"

"Well, you'd better go get it then."

James stood up haughtily and stalked out of the room.

"Er.." began Remus uncertainly, "Has he forgotten he's a wizard? We learned _Accio _in fourth year!"

"Shush, Moony, he'll hear you."

Sighing angrily, Lily jumped up and ran after him. "James!"

* * *

"_Dissimulo_," Ginny whispered impatiently that night to the ghastly woman in the portrait guarding her quarters. Didn't they realize Pensieves were heavy? Apparently, the damn thing was so sensitive to magic that levitating it would cause irreperable damange. 

"Now, dear, I could've sworn it was _Mortale, _or _Mortally.. Mortalitis! _That's what it was."

Ginny was quickly losing her short temper--she had work to do! All she wanted was to put away the damn Pensieve, get started on it and go to sleep.

"One," she said as patiently as she could, "If it was still _Mortalitis,_ you would've just given it away. And _two, _I _changed _it at _lunch!_"

"Oh, that's right.." the blasted painting responded as though deep in thought, "Well, come in then."

"Thank Merlin," she swore when it finally opened for her, "I need to see Dumbledore about replacing that witch."

"Samara?" came a voice floating in from her classroom. She looked over her shoulder, still attempting to balance the catastrophic weight of the Pensieve, and saw the Charms professor standing in her doorway. "Oh, there you are! There's a staff meeting going on--we just realized you didn't know about it! We set these things up at the beginning of the year; forgot you weren't here to mark them down. Come now, they just sent me to get you--oh my! Is that a Pensieve? Very rare, those are. Where did you happen to get it?"

Ginny smiled grimly at the bad timing. Giving up, she sat the basin back down on her desk. "I'll tell you later. Right now we should get to that meeting."

* * *

Four teenagers with practically adult bodies were currently failing rather miserably at huddling under an invisibility cloak together. If anyone had walked by them, they would've been scared witless to see random body parts evidently manifesting and disappearing by themselves. Fortunately, they needn't have worried about being seen--the classroom and office were bare when they arrived. Throwing off the cloak gratefully, Sirius brushed off his shoulders and walked purposefully up to the portrait. 

"_Mortalitis,_" he said confidently.

"Sorry, lad," said the portrait apologetically, "I shan't let you in. Should've come a few earlier; only just changed!"

"Thanks, Sirius, really," said Lily sarcastically, "What an informative trip--and the way we got here was even better!"

"Well, would you have preferred to be recognized?" he asked, disappointed that their outing was for nothing.

"By who? All the teachers are gone and Filch is with Peter!"

"Well, excuse me if--"

"Woah," breathed James, "is that a Pensieve?"

The pair ceased talking in favor of spinning on their heals. And, sure enough, there was one sitting innocently on Samara's desk. The memories occupying it merged and twirled, seeming as though they were beckoning the group to have a look. Just one touch and maybe they could find out who knew what...

"Those are really rare," said Remus excitedly, "I wonder how she got one?"

"Only one way to find out, then," said Sirius, his earlier disappointment replaced with a rather satisfied expression.

"What are you going to do?" asked Lily.

"What do you think?" Sirius answered her, "What did we come here to do? Get information! And what's sitting in front of us? We might not be able to get into her rooms, but isn't this even better? I mean, who needs photos and papers when we have answers right in front of us?"

"I don't know," said Remus, "This seems a little..."

"Like an invasion of privacy?" offered Lily.

James and Sirius made eye contact, amused, then turned to Remus and Lily.

"Invasion of privacy?" mimicked James, laughing, "Lily! Think about what you came here to do!"

"Yes," agreed Sirius, "because breaking in and searching her rooms is absolutely morally correct!"

"I didn't think the password was going to work," she said in her defense.

"It didn't!"

And with those sentiments, he plunged himself inside--not even bothering to see if they'd do the same.

"Don't just stand there!" said James excitedly as he followed suit.

Remus and Lily shared a glance of apprehension. "We can't let them go by themselves," she said.

"Sure. _That's _why we're going."

Both of them smiled atthat.

"Here goes nothing."

Soon all of them felt the sensation of leaving their stomachs behind as they plummeted into their professor's thoughts, opening up doors they probably all knew should have stayed closed.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Sorry. Long wait for such a terrible chapter. It's a transition chapter, so I _promise _you, the next one will be better, longer and out sooner. (Lady Saffron of the Daggers - I'm going to have to use your name in that one.) Guesses as to what Dissimulo means? Review, or don't--this horribleupdate probably doesn't deserve it, anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

** A lot of my reviewers have been telling me that Chapters 9 and 10 would have been much more effective had they been written in one chapter instead of separately - and I quite agree. Sorry if I excited you with the update and dissapointed you with it not being an update.. I _have _started progress on the next chapter, I promise! And, I'll let you in on a little secret: coming up in about two chapters or so is one of my favorite twists, and a couple after that is another one that as far as I know, has never been attempted on Or at least, at the same time. Oh, I don't know how to explain it. ****

* * *

**

IMPORTANT: I realize that in the first chapter when I was describing Ginny's past that I mentioned Draco Malfoy having a part in her torture. I'm making a minor plot change here - that statement is going to be switched to "The hardest part was when _Lucius _Malfoy had his turn." Draco is on the good side, now. Get used to it.

A Cruce Salus:

**Chapter 9**

_**This is your ghost that kneels before me / Razors on her tongue / A body full of oxygen** / It won't be the last time she'll ignore me / Thinning in my skin / Without the strength to go / Winter setting in / To cover you in snow_

(( Ruthless by Something Corporate ))

_Previously:_

"Here goes nothing."

Soon all of them felt the sensation of leaving their stomachs behind as they plummeted into their professor's thoughts, opening up doors they probably all knew should have stayed closed.

Sirius landed with a thump on what felt like a carpeted floor. The others quickly copied his actions, if the loud raps and several disgruntled "ow"s were any indication.

"What--"

"Sh," he quited whoever had began to talk, pointing to the scene laying out before them. None of them had ever been in a Pensieve before, so it was a very odd feeling to be in a room full of people that gave no sign that they acknowledged your presence. They were in the middle of a flat--a small kitchen could be seen in the far left corner, and there were various doors who most likely would lead them to bath and bedrooms. One across from the opening to the kitchen was open, which did indeed lead to a simple tiled bathroom.

A small coffee table was placed between two parallel couches that were facing each other, each occupied. In the first one sat what looked like a twenty-something man with the most outlandish mop of red hair any of them had ever seen. Lily's had always been a sleek, almost brownish-red, but this man's was a messy orange that looked as though it hadn't been cared for in a while. Underneath his mane was a dirt and blood-smeared face, littered with random jagged cuts and bruises. He also had robes on that they assumed were a version of the battle robes Samara sometimes wore. If you trailed your eyes down to his hands, you could see a bottle of firewhiskey tightly clenched in them, but it was his eyes that gave away his pain the most. They were staring off into space almost determinedly, and the gaze he held in them let the four know that he had just suffered a some kind of painful loss or tragedy. It was almost heartbreaking, looking into those eyes. And though he wasn't as torn up physically as their professor had been upon their first meeting--albeit, a rather one-sided meeting--it was simple to tell that he was straight out of some kind of battle, as well.

On the other couch, they found their professor. She didn't look any different, so they supposed this must be a recent memory. She was lying down with her legs dangling off the side and her head resting in a man's lap. Both residents of this seat, clad in their own battle robes, had simliar stains and abrasions on their skin as the first man. The one next to her sported dark waves of hair that had been crafted into a sleek ponytail. For some reason, he had a single silver streak in his otherwise elegant tresses. It was not a mark of aging, nor did it look like one--it was a brilliant strip of a brilliant color, as opposed to a random splotch of gray or white. However, this was not the most unusal thing about this man. Partially hidden on his forehead was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, of all things, that appeared to be practically glowing. Every now and then, he would run a hand through his bangs and visibly wince if it grazed the abnormality. His emerald orbs of eyes held a mixture of sorrow and thoughtfulness, whereas Samara's were filled with uncertainty. She nervously glanced at the orange-haired man for a while, before taking a slow sip of the alcohol she, too, held.

Tilting the bottle back, she downed the whole thing and chucked it carelessly when she was through. Noticing her glancing distastefully at where it had landed, the man next to her smiled grimly and asked, "One of those times you wish Hermione hadn't messed up that potion?"

Their professor--well, the woman who would be their professor--visibly stiffened at these words and sat up slowly.

"About that," she said hesitantly, "About.. her. I have to tell you something, Ron."

At this, she looked pointedly a the orange-haired one--_Ron. _He didn't look, or move, or even blink, but he spat out these words so ferociously and with such a tight grip on his firewhiskey that James was surprised the bottle didn't shatter.

"_I know she's dead_."

Lily gasped at this, her hand flying to her mouth at how broken this poor man sounded.

"No, you know that's not what I meant," Samara went on, "and I didn't know if I should tell you or not, but you have a right to know, I think."

The person next to her was now looking at her curiously, but the last inhabitant of the room gave no impression that he was even listening. Biting her lip, the next thing she said came out in a jumbled rush.

"She was pregnant."

It may have been in a jumbled rush, but there was no way that the man called Ron could have mistaken it for anything else. He finally looked up, and Remus tried to distinguish between the anger and hurt in his eyes.

"I- I helped her with the test. She was going to announce it next week on your..." Samara's voice became more apologetic with every word.

"Anniversary?" whispered the dark-haired man for her.

The four watched avidly, motionless, as Ron sprang up heatedly. For a moment, Samara studied him expectantly as he looked around the room in apparent indecision - but only for a moment. His face became a contorsion of hatred and grief as he fervently wiped away at the traitorous tears that had sprung to his defenseless eyes and swung his right leg up and under the stand before him. The weak coffee table toppled unceremoniously on its side, spilling and shattering the assortment of bottles that had collected themselves there in careless positions. Their professor - or the woman that would be their professor, anyway - jumped back only slightly and sighed defeatedly, as though having dealt with this before. Her orange-haired companion didn't waste any time with apologies as he turned on his heel and stormed out, taking the coat rack down with him in his escape for the door.

Pensieve-Samara shifted ever-so-slightly, as if to get up and follow the distressed man. Silver-streak laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and told her, "Let him go."

She bit her lip and consented, returning to the position they had first found her in, with her head resting on the other man's lap. "It just _sucks,_" she commented after a bout of uneasy silence, "They were trying so _hard_, and for so long, and now when, finally.."

Trailing off, she grabbed one of the few bottles that had survived Ron's rampage and uncorked it. She down near half of it in one go, but this only seemed to anger her more. "Fuck," she said, "I can't even get bloody pissed properly!"

"Hey," the man said softly, "We're gonna fix this, okay?

Samara laughed cynically. "Enlighten me."

"I promise you," he replied earnestly, "I _promise. _We are going to make them regret everything they've done to us. Not just to me, not just to my parents, not just to my godfather, and my friends, and.. everyone! I promise you, I will make damn sure they'll wish they'd never laid a hand on you."

She bristled slightly at this. "Harry," she said warningly.

"What?" he challenged. She ran a hand through her jet-black haid and replied wearily, "Just don't. Not now."

"If not then, and not now, then when?"

She stared at Silver Streak, or Harry, or whatever his name was, scornfully. "You're tactless, you know that?" She took another swig of the whiskey, then proceeded to hurl the half-full bottle at the wall, where it broke into a million tiny little pieces as what was left of the bubbling drink seeped slowly down to the carpet.

"I don't think we should be here," managed Lily faintly, who looked as though about to throw up.

Pensieve-Samara surveyed the mess that was sprawled out before them. "We need a house elf," she commented dryly. And with that statement, the colors of the room swirled together in one big vortex and the Marauders plus one felt their bodies being swept away to the next scene.

It seemed as though the landing part of the process didn't get any easier with practice. This time, the group was catapulted to what looked like somebody's bedroom. It wasn't part of the flat they had just been in, for it had much more of an antique, homey feel. They found their professor on the couch across from the elegent bed that dominated most of the room. She was fidgeting with her hands, as though unable to settle them in one place, she was shaking, and there were obvious tear-stains on her frazzled face - but it wasn't any of this that shocked her students the most.

It was her hair.

Instead of her usual raven, it was a brilliant, fiery red - and unlike Ron's mop of orange, it was a deep and vibrant color that was far more brilliant than even Lily's. Every so often she would run a hand through it - a nervous habit? - and shut her eyes tightly.

"Why is--" began Sirius, but was interrupted by a knock sounding from behind the mahogany door. After being pushed open carefully, it revealed a platinum blonde, whose looks, Remus thought, were a naggingly familiar one.

Blondie strode over to the couch. Samara didn't look up. Blondie sat down. Samara didn't look up. Blondie put an arm around her shoulders. Samara jumped back so fast it looked like his touch had eloctrocuted her.

"Hey," said the man softly, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Sighing, she finally looked up at him. "Sorry," she said frustratedly, "It's just - _god - _you look so much like him!"

"I know," he said sadly, putting an arm around her shoulders once again. This time, she didn't resist, but leaned into his chest as silent tears forced their way out of her non-consentual eyes.

"_I can't get it out of my head,_" she choked out almost incomprehensively, "I can't sleep, I tried meditating, I... Merlin, I can't get it out of my head!"

With each word, her voice was rising higher and higher until she was almost hysterical. It was disturbing, to say the least, to see a person who looked so invincible - she was their teacher and an auror, for christ's sake! - be so all over the place.

"Guys, I _really_ don't think we should be here!" Lily repeated.

James took her hand and opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to respect his girlfriend's wishes, but the blonde cut them off for the second time.

"I know," he said again, "_Believe _me, _I know._"

Samara hiccoughed and looked up at him in horror, shaking her head as though asking him to tell her it wasn't true. "Oh, Draco, he didn't," was all she said.

Blondie-Draco didn't answer.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I'm that one that should be sorry."

"For what?"

"For not killing him when I had the chance."

Ginny straightened herself until she was face to face with him. "What are you talking about?"

Draco hesitated. "That night," he said, "That night that I left - that night that she died. I had his wand, Ginny, I did. I could've done whatever I wanted to him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to make him suffer. But I couldn't! I mean, how pathetic is that? I couldn't even kill him! And it's not even pathetic because of that, it's pathetic because I was a coward - I didn't want to go to Azkaban. I blamed myself, thought I _deserved_ everything that hell hole had for me there, but I couldn't do it. I blamed myself for everything that had happened.. just like you are right now."

Their professor somehow seemed to know that he didn't want any pity. "You've never told anyone that before, have you?"

"No."

Both of the distressed pair were silent for a few moments. "Thank you," she said at last, "You have no idea how much that helped."

"I did," Draco said almost so quietly that they couldn't hear him, "or I wouldn't've told you. Have you talked to--"

"I can't," she cut in quickly.

"I understand."

"Is someone going to listen to me now?" asked Lily, who was ready to blow up at them for ignoring her.

"You can go if you want," answered Sirius, who had a morbid fascination with these memories, as heart-wrenching as they were.

But Lily didn't move. Her eyes lit up as if just now realizing something important. "Did- did that man call her Ginny?"

"He did, didn't he?" said James, "I think he said Jenny, though."

"I told you she was hiding something," said Sirius triumphantly.

Lily sighed in defeat. "Then I guess I'll stay."

* * *

James wrinkled his nose, repulsed. What was that _smell_?

It was the next memory.

The had crash-landed in, to put it mildly, the most vile place any of them had ever had the experience of being in. It was what appeared to be a damp, ranky, dungeon in what felt like the pits of hell. The stench was that of a thousand rotting bodies - something Remus was beginning to suspect were hidden in the next room. The neglected walls were stained with the unmistakable texture of blood and various other stains wtih less recognizable traits. The sole object occupying the room was a pair of old, rusty shackles adjacent to where they were standing.

That is, until an unidentified person threw their professor in with them not-so-gracefully.

Peter gasped - she looked almost as terrible as she had the night they'd found her! After being flung onto the ground, she curled up into the fetal postion and gave a loud moan of definitive pain.

Soon after, a rough-looking man strode into the dismal room confidently. He was wearing what appeared to be Death Eater robes, and his nearly shaven-head and monstrous hands were both blotted with what one could only assume was Samara's blood.

"Get up," he ordered gruffly in his nasally, sadistic voice, which he accompanied with a swift kick to the weak memory that was their teacher. Samara brought a hand to her mouth as she coughed up more of her scarlet blood violently. It was ironic, if you thought about it - the very blood her body was procuring was nearly the same color as her hair, which was once again the atypical red. Alternatively, it could've been that so much blood was mixed in with her tangled locks that it was difficult to distinguish what was what.

"Get up!" the man repeated fiercely, and then, "stubborn to the end, this one is." His last comment had been almost to himself, said as he yanked the woman below him up roughly by the arm. Lily winced as Samara cried out with what sounded suspiciously like a pop. Sure enough, her arm was angled in an unnatural postition as her attacker shackled her unmercilessly to the wall. Once forced upright, her body slid down the stony wall as far as the restrictions allowed her, until it looked as though the chains were the only things preventing her frail structure from collapsing.

"Not so big and tough now, are you?" teased the man.

Samara looked up at him drearily. Her voice was shaking, but what came out next was spat out so fiercely that it made up for how defeated she looked. Well, almost.

"You're pathetic."

Her attacker's face contorted in fury. "_Crucio!_" he screamed.

None of them had ever been under the Cruciatus Curse. None of them had ever felt the nerve-tingling pain it caused. No, none of them had ever felt as though every inch of them was being stabbed with a thousand knives as the waves of fire it sent through their bodies swept away all other rational thought. And none of them ever wanted to.

But Samara.. Samara was laughing! _Laughing. _Was she insane? No, scratch that, she was defintiely insane, but what was wrong with her?

"Ah, Parker," she said, "Haven't you learned?"

Parker, his name was, then. And so they watched in disgust as Parker swung his fist into their professor's cheek. "The next thing out of your mouth had BETTER be some goddamn information, you good-for-nothing bitch, or I'll see to it that you won't be able to speak out of that smart-ass mouth of yours for a week."

She spat in his face.

Noticing his furious gaze, she added mock-sweetly, "What? I didn't speak that time."

"_Argh!_" he roared as he spun around and walked out purposefully. For a second, the Marauders were confused. Was that enough to drive such a vicious man to leave?

Apparently, it was not. He re-entered with a smug look about his face, this time with two cronies flanking his sides. They were dragging in a semi-conscious woman who had the appearance of one who had just lost a significant amount of weight in a short period of time. She had a mousy set of hair that might once have been a magnificent coffee or auburn-color. Now, however, it was matted with blood, and sweat, and probably tears.

Samara sobered up as soon as she saw her. "What are you going to do to her?" she asked with an air of indifference, but you could tell from the undertone in her voice that she was desperately trying to keep a hold of her emotions.

"Come on, you're not that stupid. What do you think?"

"I think," she answered slowly, "that you need to let her go. _Now._ Or the next chance I get, you will be very sorry."

"You should be, my dear, not the other way around. _Crucio!_"

This time, the fatal curse was aimed at the woman on the floor. And this time, the victim wasn't laughing.

"So how about it?" Parker asked casually thirty seconds later, "Ready to give it up?"

Samara, who had been attempting to stare at anything but the scene before her, opened her mouth to say something. However, before she could utter some insult or remark, the heavily battered brunette beat her to it.

"Don't," she pleaded in a raspy voice.

"Shut up!" yelled one of the men flanking her, "No one asked you to speak!"

"Don't do it," she repeated, ignoring them and talking as fast as she could, "We all knew what we were getting into, we all agreed-"

She was cut off by a foot slamming into her face, which in turn slammed her back to the ground.

"I'm sorry," whispered their professor, who now looked as though she was fighting back tears.

"Don't be," the woman whispered tragically from her beaten position, "I'm not as important."

As to what it was she didn't believe herself as important as, she failed to specify.

The Marauders were silent. Parker nodded to his henchmen.

"_Crucio!_"

Samara turned her head helplessly from her friend's incessant screams. Cruelly, the man beside her put both hands on either sides of her scalp and forced it back forward until she had no choice but to watch. She tried to close her eyes, but he used his monstrous fingers to pry them back open.

"What happened to that bravery? You're just going to stand here and watch her die? Dumbledore's man through and through, my arse. You can't even save your best friend."

"Oh, but I could," she responded to the taunting sadly. "You see, that's the difference between people like me and her, and people like you. If you were in this position, you would let your friend die. Why? Because you don't care. You'd put yourself before your friend.

"But us? We care so much it hurts; we care so much we're willing to make sacrifices for the good of someone else. And that - that is something you could _never_ understand, because for that, you would need a heart."

"Good thing I don't have one then," he said sarcastically, "or I might've given a shit what just came out of your mouth. Why don't you make something more productive come out of it, like information? Then your friend goes free, and the 'sacrifices' don't have to be made."

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Then you had your chance. Do it."

For a seond, the Cruciatus, along with the screaming, ceased, and was replace with the girl's ragged breathing. But then-

"_Avada Kedavra._"

And the girl was gone.

"Enjoying yourselves, are you?" asked Samara - but Samara's lips hadn't moved.

What little color they retained in their faces was drained almost instantly as the group turned around to find their present-day professor in the memory with them.


	10. Chapter 10

A Cruce Salus:

Chapter 10

_And if you see this world as ugly and thin / Then you'll be so cruel to the touch, you'll leap out the body you're in / To a land of angry soil, that swallows boys and coughs up men _

_I know that when it's over we'll be holding one another / We only ever wanted to feel real /Two years of taction only teaches you to fight / We only ever wanted to try _

With our hands, and our fists, muscles, skin, thumb, and bone / We never grew up, we were cut from the stone / That holds your body and soul / We are all just sinking for something

(( Mothers, Sisters, Daughters & Wives by Voxtrot ))

* * *

Ginny Weasley was furious. 

And Ginny Weasley had rarely been furious.

Of course, there were little things that got on her nerves, but she took pride in the fact that she'd hardened herself enough to never let the inconvenient emotion known as anger affect her decisions more than it absolutely needed to.

But, for repetition's sake, Ginny Weasley was furious.

As she stared apathetically toward the four who had so rashly invaded her private thoughts, it was like a part of her she hadn't known existed sprang to life. It urged her to scream, throw a fit, grab one of them by the shoulders and demand to know why they'd even begin to think they had a right to invade something so personal as her very _mind._

She was mad at them for trespassing.

She was mad at them for being so rash.

But most importantly, she was mad at herself.

She was mad at herself for being so stupid as to leave something so compromising in plain sight; for letting her emotions get the best of her; for trusting herself to get to know people she'd waited so long to know, only for fate to rear its ugly head and callously remind her that her life would never go the way she wanted it.

And so it seemed, Ginny Weasley was mad at the world. But Ginny Weasley was the weak human cowering behind a stronger identity. That stronger identity was Samara Davidson, and Samara Davidson was cut from stone. She did not cry; she did not feel; she did not get angry. Ginny Weasley was the emotional little girl that saw fit to so inconveniently appear during her private moments of insecurity. Ginny Weasley was not to be shown in public.

And so it was lucky for the Marauders that it was Samara Davidson, and not Ginny Weasley, that they were faced with.

"Samara--" Remus started.

"You have no idea.. you have _no idea _what could've came of this little rendezvous," she relpied stoically.

"We didn't mean--"

"_Please _spare me your excuses, Lily. Or are you going to describe to me how an invisible someone forced you at wandpoint into that Pensieve?"

Even James and Sirius, who were normally aces with their alibies, looked more like deer caught in the headlights than their normal suave selves.

Samara sighed wearily, glancing to the corner of the room where the Invisibility Cloak lay deceptively concealed. To most, anyway.

"An _Invisibility Cloak? _Well, I suppose that rules out the 'We were just stopping by for some tea' excuse."

"Okay," James conceded, "so it wasn't an innocent nighttime stroll. But I swear to you - _we _swear to you - if any of us had known what sort of memories were in there--"

Samara cut him off. But she didn't cut him off with a biting 'You should've thought of that', or any sort of brash remark; she cut him off by laughing.

"You only got to what - the third memory? Please, sweetheart, if you think that was bad, you've got something else coming. You might realize, but the four of you are _so lucky _I got here when I did. The things you would've seen.. do you realize that at one point, you would have had to watch myself being repeatedly raped and beaten? Do you?"

Lily looked disgusted by this revelation, and the boys had enough decency in them to look ashamed.

"And that's not even the worst one. Things I refuse to talk about, even mention.. And what did you even expect to find here, anyway? What burning questions did you want answered so badly that you made the decision to snoop around for it instead of asking me? Well?

"We're sorry, Professor," Sirius offered quietly, reverting to the subtle formality of addressing her as his superior.

"Not as sorry as I am," she deadpanned.

"I guess this is the part where you punish us?" Remus inquired expectantly.

His professor glanced at him unnervingly. "You're right, Remus. This is the part where I should punish you.

"Get some sleep, you lot. We've got class together tomorrow."

Sirius looked up in shock. "You're.. not going to punish us?"

"As dissapointed as I am, no, Mr. Black. I'm not going to punish you." _God knows I want to._ "I have a feeling that, had I been in your position, I would've done the same thing." _That is, before I grew up._

The group hadn't moved, perhaps thinking she would change her mind and expel them. Deciding it wasn't enough of a hint, she added, "Perhaps I should take away a few points for being out after curfew.."

As they dissapeared, so did the emotions that were quintessential to the survival of Ginny Weasley.

Samara Davidson enjoyed a dreamless sleep that night.

* * *

Harry Potter was furious. 

And Harry Potter had rarely been furious.

Of course, there were little things that got on his nerves, but he took pride in the fact that he'd hardened himself enough to never let the inconvenient emotion known as anger affect his decisions more than it absolutely needed to.

But, for repetition's sake, Harry Potter was furious.

As he stared apathetically toward the man responsible for so much heartache, it was like a part of him he hadn't known still existed sprang to life. It urged him to scream, throw a fit, grab him by the shoulders and demand to know why tearing apart other people's lives caused him so much sadistic pleasure.

He was mad at him for hurting her.

He was mad at him for taking her.

But most importantly, he was mad at himself.

He was mad at himself for being so stupid as to allow someone that important to him to be put in the line of fire; for trusting himself to get uncharacteristically close to her, only for fate to rear its ugly head and callously remind him that letting people in usually led to their destruction.

And so it seemed, Harry Potter was mad at the world. But Harry Potter was the weak human cowering behind a stronger identity. That stronger identity was Aries Despero, and Aries Despero was cut from stone. He did not cry; he did not feel; he did not get angry. Harry Potter was the emotional little boy that saw fit to so inconveniently appear during his private moments of insecurity. Harry Potter was not to be shown in public.

And so it was lucky for Adonis Parker that it was Aries Despero, and not Harry Potter, that he was faced with.

"I'll ask you again, Parker," he whispered in a deathly quiet tone, "Where is she?"

The battle Ginny Weasley had disappeared from had ended shortly after her final duel, which Aries' continous efforts had finally hinted was against one Adonis Parker. Dead, they were calling her, or worse. Most couldn't understand why the great Harry Potter refused to look into cases more important than such a fruitless one, but then again, most couldn't understand the great Harry Potter at all. It was something he couldn't explain, but it was something he couldn't abandon. Ginny was still alive out there, somewhere, he knew it. He could feel her. And he wouldn't give up on her.

"You're asking the wrong guy," Parker spat.

Magically bound to a chair in what was left of the old Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he'd had no choice but to answer. When the Savior of the wizarding world's wand is pointed at your throat, it's usually best to be as cooperative as possible.

"Well, that's a shame, isn't it?" Harry asked, humoring him, "I guess I've got the wrong guy. Is it possible that someone_ else_ with your name and your face got bleeding smashed and went on to brag about how he defeated the one and only Ginny Weasley? We've got informers, Parker. Bit careless of you, yeah?"

Of course, every word of that was a lie, but a smug look crossed his face as a terrified one crossed his opponent's. They were all the same, Death Eaters - feed them some shit story about how screwed they are, or how Voldemort can't help them anymore, and they'll come running like dogs to their masters.

It was the same technique he'd used to lure them to the ground zero that Hogwarts had become. Once Voldemort's army was on his territory, he'd cornered the man he was looking for outside his old classroom and dragged him inside.

Sort of ironic, really - he'd been told to expect situations like these in this very room, but he'd never been told to expect the situations to be _in _this room.

"So I'll make you a deal. You tell me what happened - _what you did -_ and I just might spare your pathetic little life."

"You're deluded," Parker sneered, "You think you're so high-and-mighty, like you're so much better than the rest of us, but you just admitted to me that you'd kill me and take pleasure in it. Doesn't put you very many notches above most Death Eaters."

It was obvious that Parker expected him to go off on a tangent about how what he did was for the Light, and therefore was justified, but he said something instead that surprised him.

"You're right.

"But that's not what we're here to talk about. Now, this is how it's going to go down. You give me what I want, or I pour this Veritaserum down your throat. What's it going to be? The easy way, or the hard way?"

"The hard way," he concluded after a long pause of silence for mock-thought.

Seemingly knowing his defeat, Parker didn't even attempt to escape the potion Harry poured so carefully down his throat.

"Alright, now let's get down to business, shall we? Is Ginevra Molly Weasley alive?"

Everything depended on this answer, everything. What if--

Aries pushed the Harry-esque worries to the back of his mind and waited for Parker to answer.

"S'far as I know.." he slurred.

Harry mentally sighed in relief. Aries continued.

"What do you mean, 'so far as I know'? You don't have her?"

"No."

"But you did something to her."

A grin. "Yeah."

"What spell did you use?"

"It doesn't have a name.."

An experimental spell? That could prove to be worrying - if the spell was still in the early stages, many aspects could still be extremely unreliable, depending on the adequacy of its creator. Or, worse - it could be not an experimental spell at all, but an unknown one created by Voldemort or his high-ranking Death Eaters. Their new spells were kept as secretive as possible, not even spread to the lower ranks of Death Eaters. The uncertainty of what spell was going to be thrown at you gave Voldemort and his followers the advantage of the Light's uncertainty of how to prepare. Plus, it didn't hurt that a spell can't be classified as illegal if the Ministry wasn't aware of it.

"What was the incantation?"

"_Porro Abrumpo._"

"And what does it do?"

"I don't know."

Frustrating, but not so unusual. Voldemort's lapdogs were often unaware of, or foggy on, the purpose of the spells they were instructed to use, so as to prevent the Light from obtaining information in situations like these.

"Well, what were you _told _it would do?"

"I was told," he answered with an air of satisfaction, "that it would get rid of her. Forever."

Well, _that_ was worrying. It was no secret that Voldemort wanted Ginny out of the way. But if it worked so well on her, why didn't he use it on Harry? Unless--

"The spell got rid of her, but didn't kill her?'

Parker shrugged. "They didn't tell me much."

"Of course," Harry said, more to himself than anyone else, "and Voldemort reserved it for her because he wants make sure I'm dead, not just gone."

"Are you almost done?" Parker asked aggravatedly.

"Almost. Show it to me."

"And, why would I do that? I'm under Veritaserum, not Imperio, remember?"

"You'll do it," Harry told him dangerously, "because if you don't, I'll use it on you."

That did the trick. Fear flickered upon his eyes, only for a moment, but it was fear all the same. But as he was handed his wand, something else flickered upon his eyes. Triumph.

"Oh, I'll show it to you, alright. _Porro Abrumpo!_"

A flash of blinding blue light shot out of his wand at the desk to Harry's right, but at the last minute diverted its course directly to Harry himself.

A sensation of being vioently ripped from where he was standing by ungodly forces consumed him. The strange feeling knocked him to the ground with the force of a thousand hurricanes.

"Probably should have seen that coming," he remarked, straightening himself up and watching the last of the blue dissapear from his vision.

Standing next to him with an expression of shock was the very woman he'd spent so many hours searching for.

He _definitely _didn't see that one coming.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm back! Sorry it took so long, but at least this is a good way to kick off 2007, right? .. Right? 

Anyway, _I'm _quite proud of it, so I hope you are, too. Aries is the Greek god of war, and despero is Latin for "to be without hope, despair; despair of, give up". So, Harry's alias roughly translates to "God of war in a world without hope".

Thanks for reading! Reviews make me work faster ;


	11. Chapter 11

A Cruce Salus:

**Chapter 11**

_Once you had a reason / And once you had a place / You had it all and laid it all to waste _

_And I know you hate to need us / But why d'you need to hate / And where'd you learn to shoot without restraint?_

_Oh baby won't you cry / Show me there are some tears behind your eyes / Oh baby won't you __cry / Why d'you have to kill to feel alive / Why d'you have to kill to feel alive / **Why d'you have to kill to feel alive?**_

(( Shoot Your Gun by 22-20's ))

* * *

"It was weird," said Lily.

The four of them had just returned from Samara's office, each unsure of how to feel. They were now sprawled out on their respective beds, having just finished recounting the story to Peter.

"Definitely," agreed Sirius, "What was up with the red hair?"

"Not that, you moron," she replied as though used to this sort of idiocy, "it's weird that she didn't punish us."

"Maybe," commented Remus thoughtfully, "she didn't want to give us detention because she knew we'd explain to other people _why _we had detention, and she didn't want anyone to know she had a Pensieve."

"Or that she needed one," added James, "Remember when she asked us not to tell anyone how she got here? Maybe she's trying to hide.. that she has something to hide."

"So she _does _have something to hide, then?" asked Sirius, "Are we agreed on that?"

"What is _wrong _with you people?" interrupted Lily, "Of course she has something to hide. If I'd been through what we saw, which apparently 'wasn't even the worst', I'd have something to hide, too! That doesn't give us the right to exploit things she doesn't want out in the open."

"But Lily," said James softly, "her name isn't even Samara. Didn't you hear what they called her? Ginny, or something?"

"I think it was Jenny," corrected Sirius.

"So what!" she said, "So she has an alias! She's an auror; is it so shocking?"

"But why would she use it here?" asked Peter, speaking up for the first time that night.

"How should I know? Look, she let us off easy; I say we keep the damage to a minimum and just stop this, right now."

"But if we don't look into this--" Sirius began.

"If we _do_ look into this, it's going to end up exactly the way it did tonight. Maybe worse."

"Lily's right, Sirius," conceded Remus, "Let's just leave it alone."

The Marauders went to sleep that night knowing that it would be monumentally hard not to look into their professor's mysterious background. But had they known who would arrive the next day, they would'nt have needed to look very far.

* * *

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom slowly filled itself up as the NEWT-level students filed in for their first real lesson with their new Professor. 

The Marauders headed straight for their usual seats in the back, knowing they had probably ruined what could've been a perfectly good friendship. It seemed, however, that Samara Davidson - or Jenny, or whoever she was - was ready to pretend it had never happened, so long as they would do the same.

"Good morning, boys," she said with a smile on her face.

"Morning," they mumbled unsurely.

"Alright, class," she continued brightly as they sat down, "today we're going to learn about a few misconceptions that society has taught you."

For a moment, the class was silent. _Morbid, much? _Then, "Why?" asked some Hufflepuff James didn't recognize.

"Because," Samara began as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "if you mention any of the things we'll be discussing negatively in classes following this one, I won't have to put up with it. Now, let's start with a test."

A few groans could be heard from around the classroom at the thought of a test on their second class.

"Stop complaining," she responded to the unappreciative reactions, "it's more like extra credit, anyway. Whoever completes it first will get, instead of points, a pardon from every detention they recieve throughout the entire school year."

Sirius and James perked up from where they were slouching contentedly in their chairs. Bumping up a few percentages was great and everything, but _this _was more like it!

Lily, on the other hand, didn't seem so convinced, Furrowing her eyebrows sketpically, she asked, "Are you sure you can do that?"

"Of course!" Samara replied casually, "So long as you're not caught doing anything illegal, Dumbledore thinks it's an excellent incentive."

Dumbledore wanted them to do it? Dumbledore wanted them to do it, and whoever did it first would get off scot-free of punishment for the rest of their Hogwarts career?

What the hell did she want them to do?

"All you have to do for me is say one word. One simple word, and the prize is all yours."

She leaned in theatrically, creating suspense for the moment she would reveal what seemingly talentless act they would have to perform, before uttering, most casually:

"_Voldemort._"

The class reacted as if she had just confessed her plans to capture their first born children and create an army of newborn warriers. More than a few people jumped clear out of their seats, and the rest twitched so violently that they nearly joined those on the floor.

"_Don't say his name!_" hissed Parker vehemently.

"Really, and why shouldn't I?" she asked, "Are you afraid?"

"Of course we are," said a Ravenclaw in the front, as though explaining something obvious to a child.

"Who wouldn't be afraid of him?" asked someone else.

"Ah, but that's not what I asked," she replied cheerfully, "I didn't ask if you feared the man, I asked it you feared the _name._"

The Marauders, still confused as to why their professor was lecturing them on a word most respected members of society would cower like children at the thought of saying, were thinking along the same lines of everyone else in the class. What kind of question was that, the man or the name? Didn't the two go hand in hand?

"It's not that we're _afraid _of it," said Lily slowly, the only one brave enough to speak up at all, "It's that it upsets people. Nearly everyone's been affected by Him, and people almost always _talk _about Him. Who wants to be reminded of what's happened to them everytime someone's opened up their mouth?"

The rest of the class seemed to relax a bit - Lily's statement summed up everything they were thinking, but weren't quite eloquent enough to voice.

"Do you really believe that?" Samara countered softly.

"Yes," Lily answered her unsurely.

"Do you really believe that, or is that what they want you to believe?"

"Who?" she questioned, bewildered.

"Everyone!" she shouted, throwing her hands up into the air, "The light, the dark, the gray.. everyone you've grown up with, everyone who's taught you anything, has taught you to fear a name. A name! And you've done it without even realizing it. Let me tell you something a very smart old man once said: 'Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself.' Do you agree with that, Miss Evans?"

"Yes, actually, I do," she answered, and unwaveringly this time.

"Then prove it," she challenged, and leaned back against her desk top as though quite finished.

Every pair of eyes in the room swivelled to stare at Lily expectantly, especially those belonging to one James Potter. They anticipated the latest remark that would hopefully throw off the obviously barmy teacher, but instead they got,

"V- Voldemort."

The reaction of the class might have been slightly less intense the second time of having the word spoken, if it was not for whose mouth it was coming from. Most everyone was giving her strange looks that resembled the ones they'd given Samara only moments ago, but James felt himself swelling up with something uncanningly resembling pride. And respect.

Sirius, however felt differently.

"Wait, wait, wait," he started, gaining the attention of his peers as he appeared to ready himself to counter both women, "_Please_ do not tell me that Little Miss Goody-two-shoes _Evans _is going to get that prize."

Samara, along with a few of her pupils, laughed for the first time that period. "Sorry," she lamented, "but Lily _did _say it first, and that was the rule."

"But- but-" spluttered Sirius, "If you would've given me the chance.."

"You had plenty of chance, Mr. Black," she concluded, amused at his antics.

"But Lily's never had a detention in her life!" supported Peter, hoping to gain some appreciation from his crestfallen friend.

"That's not true," Lily corrected defensively, "I had one in fifth year."

"It was for _studying in the library!_" pointed out Sirius exasperatedly.

"It was after hours!"

"But it was still for studying - it doesn't count!"

"All right, Sirius," Samara interrupted, "I'll make you a deal. Say it to me before next class, and I'll still give you some extra credit."

Sirius was outraged. "_Extra credit!_" he scoffed, "Don't you try and bribe me, woman."

Their professor turned the rest of the class with a deaf ear to his scorn and continued. "The same applies to the rest of you. However, _all _of you _must _say it to me by next class."

Half the class now shared Sirius's rage.

"How in the hell--"

"She can't make us--"

"What kind of assignment is that?"

The other half, however, were tentatively considering the idea. The fact of the matter was, hearing Lily say that nine-letter word had opened up their minds. The 'could I' ringing in their minds had converted to 'would I' with one simple word.

"What happens if we don't want to?" sneered one of the Slytherins.

"I don't really care if you don't want to, Mr. Lestrange, or if your parents feel the same way," she answered coldly, "If you fail to complete the first assignment I give, you'll have to drop the class. After all, this is a NEWT-level course. No one ever said it was going to be easy. If some of the students are unprepared to take on such a course, it's my perrogative to decide."

She was greeted with identical sets of glares from most of the Slytherins, and even a few from the Ravenclaws. It was a good thing then, Remus supposed, that she didn't seem to care, and went smoothly on with her lesson plan.

"The next thing we're going to talk about is Light magic vs. Dark magic. Who thinks they know the difference? Ms. Sanders?"

Peyton looked up quickly from the note she had been attempting to write inconspicuously (and failing at quite miserably). Looking around the room awkwardly, she asked, "Could you repeat that?"

"Certainly, Peyton, I was just asking you if you could tell me the difference between Light and Dark magic. And you know what? Answer it correctly, and I won't take five points from Ravenclaw for not paying attention during my class."

"Oh, right," she said, relieved it had not been too difficult of a question, "Well.. light magic is, like, the stuff we learn here. At Hogwarts. And dark magic is the stuff we learn to protect ourselves against. You know, like, evil wizards use it and stuff."

"Yes and no, Peyton. We do learn Light magic here at Hogwarts, but you, like most of your peers, are way off mark when it comes to Dark magic. Think about it this way. If you were going to read a book - silly idea, I know - but if you were, would you seek out a supposedly wiser person than yourself who has already read said book, and have them instruct you on exactly which pages would be beneficial for you to read? No, you wouldn't, because how could one person know what is good for everyone? And by glossing over situations that may bother you, you're taking away from the whole picture. The wizarding world is the same way."

"But Dark magic was created to hurt people," said Remus, confused as to why his professor was encouraging such a villainous idea.

"Close, Mr. Lupin," she replied, "Dark magic has the _potential _to hurt people. You've all learned about the Unforgiveables, yes? Well, there's a reason they're called the Unforgiveables, and it's because they don't have any use except to cause harm to others.

"James," she called out suddenly, "tell me one way you could kill someone using Dark magic."

"The Avada Kedavra curse," he answered.

"Right, and is there any way at all to kill someone using Light magic? Mr. Black?"

"You could levitate someone out that window," he said serenely, as though picturing such an event in his mind.

"Exactly! You see, Light magic is favored by most wizards because its prevalent purpose is an innoent one. Dark magic is used most commonly by evil wizards because it holds such an enormous amount of power that it can do major damage without very much effort on the wizard's part. But, just like Light magic can be used for evil, that power can also be used to do a lot of good. For example, Effloresco is a healing potion that mends wounds and numbs the pain at the same time. Before Effloresco was discovered, two potions would have to be taken - one for the wounds, and one for the pain. You don't have to be a Healer to know that not all potions mix well, and usually cause complications if they interact. Having one potion that could get the healing over with and not lead to conditions that require further healing saved a lot of people a lot of pain. How many of you knew that the key ingredient, an herb called servilium, had to be tainted with Dark magic before the potion took on any value?"

No one raised their hands.

"That's what I thought. You see, when major advancements are made and made with Dark magic, people don't like for the word to get out. Most likely, if it did, no one would even think twice about taking advantage of it, and nothing could be accomplished. That's why it's important for you to understand the difference between Dark magic and harmful magic."

"That actually makes a lot of sense," Lily whispered to her friends as Samara opened her mouth to speak again. Unfortunately, whatever knowledge she wished to impart to them never reached the ears of her class, as she was interrupted by a stupendously strange phenomenon occuring at the front of the room. A blinding whirlwind of blue light met the eyes of everyone paying attention to where Samara was standing, flashing in rapid successions that made Lily's stomach church in a way similar to motion sickness. When finally it ceased, it was replaced by a black-haired man and a professor looking on in shock. His features were difficult to make out, as he was doubled over, appearing to be more winded from the experience than the rest of them. As he stood up, however, a flash of recognition appeared in the eyes of not only Samara, but four of her students, as well.

"Probably should have seen that coming," the man remarked in a raspy voice, sweeping his long hair back to reveal numerous cuts on a bloodstained face.

"Class dismissed," said Samara sharply, and the tone she used was enough to make them scramble out of their seats, abandoning their curiosity in the mystical appearing man for keeping all of their limbs.

* * *

**Author's Note: **You know, I think I've only ended 3 or 4 chapters _without_ a cliffhanger. I'm evil, I know. 

I find myself quite hating the way I've written Lily. It's not that she's a terrible character, it's that I want to do so much more with her character. I need someone to say her lines and keep the Marauders in check; I just hate that it has to be her. Anyway, I've decided that to make up for it, my next story will be entirely centered around Miss Lily Evans. The working title is "Chaos Theory", and I have the prologue done, if anyone's interested in reading it. (Please don't ask to read it if you don't expect to give feedback.)

**PLEASE READ: A lot of you have been asking if this is going to be a H/G fic. I never intended for this to be a romance fic at all, but I'll write it in if my readers would prefer it. I warn you, though - there will be VERY little fluff. Since I haven't considered a romance as of yet, I need your thoughts on the subject.**

**POLL: Who do you want Ginny to be with? It can be ANYONE - even someone else from her timeline - trust me, I can make it work. Alternately, should Ginny stay solo? Cast your votes in a review.**


	12. Chapter 12

A Cruce Salus:

Chapter 12

_I never finish phrases I misspell / An open arm's a prison cell / **When I said, "I hate what I've become" / I lied, I hated who I was /** So when you start to wonder / About the pain in my throat / **Then don't you ever **/ No never / Ever / **Speak for someone**_

**_You / Don't / Know._**

(( Dog Problems by The Format ))

* * *

Aries watched the students file in stoically from his perch on Samara's desk - which, he supposed, was now his as well. When he'd first arrived in this era, he had scoffed at the offer of a teaching position. However, once Samara had explained her plan to him, the idea had become gradually more and more appealing. For the past month, he'd been away enacting the first few stages of her plan - and tweaking some of the weaker aspects of them. He had to hand it to her, it was a decent course of action to come up with, but the outline was a bit rough around the edges. Samara had always been the one who enacted things; who provided the reckless bravado to jump into missions rather than planning them. Aries had no doubt that if he hadn't show up she would've gotten the job done without any - or, at least, many - problems, but all the same, well.. she was lucky he'd appeared when he did. 

A mane of shaggy black hair accompanied by elegant tresses of red caught his eye, which flicked to the three others striding alongside the pair for an unnoticeable fraction of a second. A few years ago, this uncanny sight would have shaken him to his very core, but the horrors of the past years were such that Aries could not have brought himself to dredge up more than brief recognition even if he had cared to try.

They, among others already seated, were staring with a bit more than innocent curiosity at the unmoving figure poised in the center of the room. He could not blame them, for even if he did not constantly exude ruthlessness and raw power down to his very posture, there was the small matter of him showing up in their classroom with an appearance that could only be described as half-dead naught but a few weeks ago. The looks on their faces would have told him that they had not forgotten or accepted the explanations Samara had attempted to provide if their blaring thoughts had not beaten them to it.

Breaking his statuesque expression for the first time to scowl in annoyance, he began to block out the rather rude thoughts that were broadcasting from all directions. Occlumency had taken some time to master, but the imperative nature of the war didn't leave him any options. And once the art of sealing his mind had been mastered, the art of peering into others' did not take long to follow. He was an extremely accomplished Legillimens - too accomplished, in his opinion. He opened others' minds with such ease that it actually took more effort _not _to. He often wondered if it was like this for anyone other than him, but Dumbledore had been murdered before he'd needed to ask him, and such pleasant conversation had never quite come up during the numerous times he'd met with the so-called "Lord" Voldemort. As it was, he was forced to consider this yet another anomaly that contributed to the enigma that was Aries Despero.

A particularly loud thought on the status of his romantic life broke through his carefully concentrated efforts to keep the others like it out. Giving up on holding the silent chatter at bay and deciding to instead use it to his advantage, Aries cleared his throat in an effort to secure their attention. Every mouth went silent; every mind did not.

"Right then," he began, "by the looks on your faces I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that Samara hadn't yet informed you that I'd be helping her with the lessons every so often."

Three people raised their hands.

"Rule number one," he said sternly, "Don't ask me how I got here."

Three people lowered their hands.

Using a charismatic voice that sounded comforting while still evoking attention, he continued. "I suppose the somewhat mundane first order of business would be to take attendance, and as you're not seated alphabetically.."

Aries held up a hand to the girl in the first seat of the front row whose thoughts informed him that she planned on providing him with her name.

"Wait," he said, "Let's make this less mundane, shall we? What I want every one of you to do is to think your name as loudly as you can - no, not now! - when I point to you." And with that, he pointed to the girl from the front row and nodded.

Despite her confused face, the girl thought her name loud and clearly.

"Annemarie Jenkins," he said, putting a check next to her name on the attendance list, "Here."

"Liam Fisher," he remarked as the second student whispered the name into his brain. It continued this way until almost everyone in the room had been marked off the list, their astounded faces displaying the obvious conclusion that they had never before heard about, much less been exposed to, the awesome powers of Legillimency.

Eventually, he reached the last row, where the Marauders were rather predictably seated.

"James Potter," entered a tendril of thought into his mind.

"Nice try, _Sirius Black,_" Aries deadpanned triumphantly. He looked up to find a dumbstruck teenage version of his godfather who had seconds previously been smirking at his mind's emanation of his best friend's moniker. James's characteristic grin had also dissipated, indicating the seventh year had probably planned on similar elementary trickery.

"You didn't really believe Samara wouldn't have warned me about the two of you and your subsequent cronies, did you?" he inquired mockingly.

"Didn't actually realize we were that famous," Sirius answered him, that cocky smirk making a reappearance.

"Not famous, Mr. Black, just a nuisance," came a voice from the doorway, which Samara happened to be leaning against. "And you!" she exclaimed, pointing at Aries with her free hand, "I leave you alone for five minutes to get a cup of coffee and you're already showing off!"

"I was not!" retorted Aries in mock defensiveness, "It was a lead-in to a very beneficial speech concerning the importance of guarding your mind!"

Samara raised on eyebrow skeptically.

"Alright, I may have been showing off," he admitted grudgingly.

"Naturally. Now that, class, was an example of Legillimency, which is..? No one? Not even you, Lily?"

The extraordinarily intelligent redhead looked somewhat abashed as she replied, "The name sounds familiar, but I have no idea what it is."

"Legillimency is the art of opening your mind to another's thoughts, as I just demonstrated," interjected Aries.

"Wait a second," burst Sirius, "So if I were to learn this Legillimency, I would know what _anyone_ was thinking?" He looked around the room and grinned wickedly at his classmates, particularly the females.

"Yes, which is _exactly _why we will not be learning it, Mr. Black," replied Samara sternly.

"Oh, come on!" James argued for him, "It could be bloody useful for defense!"

Fortunately, Samara and Aries were more than equipped to handle two difficult school boys.

"Actually, Legillimency is more of an offense when it comes to the Dark Arts," explained Aries, "but its counterpart, Occlumency, is the defense which would guard your mind to intrusions less harmless than the ones I performed earlier. Surely we'll teach them this, Samara?"

"Perhaps, Aries, but I seem to recall even you having trouble with it," she teased. "Now get out your books and turn to page 452, we're going to continue our lesson on Dark Creatures.."

* * *

Samara watched the last student file out, a clumsy Hufflepuff named Ian, before turning to her companion and releasing a long sigh. "Weird, isn't it?" 

"I guess," conceded Aries as they retreated to their quarters. "I thought it would be much worse, though."

"What do you mean?" she inquired, handing him a bottle of Firsker's Finest Firewhiskey and uncorking her own.

"Well, now that I've gotten through the first lesson, it just seems like.. weirder things have happened," he admitted.

Samara threw her head back and laughed. "Only you would get thrown into decades past, be asked to help teach a class that included teenage versions of your parents, and comment that _weirder things have happened."_

He laughed along with her, the first time he had done so in many weeks. "I missed this," he told her.

"Missed what?" she asked curiously.

"Not discussing strategies, or tactics, or which Order members are possible spies, just.. being with you. And I was thinking, now that--"

"Harry," she said warningly.

"Just hear me out, Ginny. The only reason we aren't together is because of our enemies, but all of them are undereducated teeangers here!"

"No," she countered angrily, "That was _your _reason. Not mine."

"Look, I know I didn't come through for you a couple months ago.. when it happened. But I swear, Ginny, I will _never _let that happen again."

Samara stared at him in disbelief, before Ginny's emotions got the best of her and she exploded in a torrent of rage. "Okay, let's get one thing straight here. I do NOT need your protection, Harry. I didn't need it then, and I do NOT need it now. And even if I did, you can't even fucking say it! _I was raped, Harry._"

He winced as if she'd slapped him.

"I could never be with you because you could never be able to deal with that. It scares you, doesn't it? You're always so good at _fixing _things, but I'm not some battle you can jump in to and save the day, alright? You can't save me. And you know it."

"Ginny," he pleaded, "I love you."

Samara gazed at him with pity. "I don't love you," she said honestly, "There isn't enough of me left to."

* * *

Samara leaned into the turn, pushing her legs to go faster, as fast as they could go, until the wind in her hair and the burn in her thighs would cancel out the ache in her mind... 

Aries had horrible timing, of that much she was sure. Why couldn't he have come around years ago, when she would have welcomed him with open arms? It infuriated her that he thought he had to protect her, like she was some fragile piece of art. In case he hadn't noticed, she was already broken in every way, shape or form it was possible to be broken. There was no fixing. There was no saving. And by Merlin, even if there was, she didn't need him to do it.

And besides that, there was no way she would ever be worthy of him. Aries was so.. good, the unflinching light of the cause. He stayed true to his morals, no matter what the situation, whereas Samara had lost any semblance of a moral compass long ago. Aries fought for his beliefs, despite having friends and honorary family targeted again and again; Samara fought for revenge. To be honest, she had long since abandoned the hope that fighting for the greater good required. Aries avoided killing unless absolutely necessary; Samara sought after it with a vengeance.

Samara wasn't sure why she was so surprised by Aries' proposal; she'd anticipated it from the start. Perhaps it was actually hearing it out loud, perhaps she'd been denying how irate it made her, but whatever the reason, she was now running the manic thoughts out of her head on the Quidditch field.

And now other thoughts were very near to breaking through the imaginary, yet very real, barrier she had set up in her mind, and she must not let them, she must go faster...

She was closing in on the next turn, she must work harder, she must go faster...

And then she was catapulting to the ground, her ankle twisted at an odd angle, and the pain was everywhere, and she did not know how long she sat there, drinking it in, relishing in a physical expression of her pain...

"Samara?"

And the spell was broken; she cursed the two curious boys silently as they ran down to meet her, broomsticks in hand.

"James, Sirius," she nodded curtly, blocking out their gasp as they took in the crazed expression on her face and the angle at which her ankle was laying, twisting grotesquely beneath her leg.

She grimaced as they helped her up; she did not need their help, who did they think they were? "I'm fine," she spat, and limped over to the stands, placing more and more pressure on her injured appendage with every step, until finally she reached the nearest bench on the stands with her mind swimming and all previous thoughts banished.

The boys - because, oh yes, they were just boys, just innocent little boys, what did they know of pain? - were right behind Samara, and sat down on either side of her. They watched, seeming to sense that she didn't want them to speak, as she somewhat reluctantly pulled out her wand and whispered "Vigoratus." She watched stoically as it bent itself back into a proper shape, and would've been almost sad to feel the ache leave her body if her mind had been permitting emotions. Inspecting it carefully, she determined that while appearing to be completely healed, it would probably necessitate an additional visit to Madam Pomfrey when she found the time. The spell had been a new invention during the Second Rise for quick healing on the battlefield, but did not have the advantage of years dedicated to its testing and tweaking. It had also been made under the assumption that its use would be for one of two types of people: those who would either be killed in the very near future, therefore only needing to be healed for a short amount of time, or those who would make use of its properties just long enough to continue fighting until they could make it back to a headquarters, where fitting medical attention could be supplied. She was still pondering the properties of the spell, because it was best to think of anything but what had just occurred, when she was pulled rudely from her mental seclusion by the boy sitting next to her.

"Are you alright?" Sirius Black asked, looking sincerely worried.

"I said I was fine," she spat.

"He wasn't asking about your ankle," supplied James.

The edge in her eyes softened ever so slightly as she replied, "I guess I seem kind of insane right now, huh?"

"Not insane," corrected Sirius, "just upset."

She looked between the two for a moment, before deciding it mattered very little if she vented to them about trivial matters such as her love life. "He's been here one full day, and he's already annoying the hell out of me," she admitted.

"Who?" asked James, "Oh, Aries? I thought you two were friends."

Samara rolled her eyes. "We are, but that just means he knows how to get on my nerves better than most people."

"What did he do?" inquired Sirius, but after noticing the deranged look in her eyes again, added, "I mean, if you don't mind telling me."

Samara laughed humorlessly. "I don't mind. He.. wants to get back together with me."

"Wait, so you two were.. together?" asked Sirius. Samara nodded emotionlessly in response.

"And you don't want to be?" said James.

"Not anymore," she deadpanned, "he missed his chance."

"So what were you doing out here?" continued Sirius, whose expression had lightened considerably.

Samara sighed and ran her hands through her jet-black hair. "Blowing off steam, I guess. I would've been flying, but I didn't have a broom, and the school ones are pathetic."

James laughed. "That's true, but probably good. You would've gotten much worse than a sprained ankle if you'd been on a broom."

She glared at him, but her uncontrollable grin gave her away. "Well, I'm better now," she lied, "what do you say I steal one of your brooms and we have a little one-on-one?"

"You're on," agreed James wickedly, "Take Sirius's first. You are so going down."

Samara laughed in disbelief. "You think you can take me?"

"No," he replied decidedly, "I know I can."

"Give me your broom, Sirius," she demanded, "We'll just have to see about that."

* * *

Author's Note:

Wow, I think that's the longest I've ever gone without an update. I won't bore you with the excuses, but trust me - if your life was anything like mine in the past year, updating would've been the last thing on your mind. I'm in therapy now, though, and things are getting better, so hopefully you won't have to wait thing long again. But hey! No cliffhanger!

Anyway, due to the overwhelming response of "Don't have Ginny with anyone", she's going to stay single for a while. Probably for the whole story. This chapter was getting that whole spiel out the way.

Review?

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

A Cruce Salus:

Chapter 13

_**A couple of tears and I'm a broken mess** **/ The sadness has taken me far too deep in regret** / So sing me a song about something good / My heart's on the thrashing floor and / I've done every single thing I could_

_I used to believe in / Some kind of feelin' / That could change everything I thought I knew / But that door is closed / And my heart feels like it's frozen / If you hear me, I can't feel you_

_Whoa / I'm losing hope / There's a hole in my heart / That's been cut out of stone / Whoa / Cold comes, cold goes / **Could you fill this hole/ Cause I can't do it alone **_

(( The Coldest Heart by The Classic Crime ))

* * *

As soon as James and Sirius were gone from her line of vision, so was the smile that had been plastered on to her face for the whole afternoon. She'd truly had a good time, but all of her good times were fleeting. This should have filled her with remorse, or regret, or _something_, but it seemed that all she was capable of these days was anger. Blind, furious rage. And as she was no longer angry with Aries, she found herself striding towards her classroom feeling nothing at all. 

Aries was taking a long drag of his cigarette when Samara entered their quarters. Apparently, he had been waiting for her. He opened his mouth to say something the moment he saw her, but she silenced him with her hand.

"You're sorry," she said, "I get it. Now throw me the pack."

She didn't speak again till after she'd inhaled enough times for the usual lightness to return to her head.

"I got into a Quidditch tournament with James and Sirius," she informed him, making it clear that their previous conversation was over.

"Oh yeah?" he questioned in surprise, for Quidditch was one of the things he could relate to with her, "I bet that deflated their egos a bit."

"That's the embarrassing part!" she exclaimed, pausing to take another drag, "I beat James, but Sirius caught the Snitch and he was the one who could've used the lesson in modesty!"

"Well, you always were a better Chaser than seeker," he consoled her.

They were silent for a few minutes after that, but it was a comfortable silence. Samara took one last drag before putting the cigarette out on her wrist, closing her eyes for a moment as the familiar pain welcomed her with a high she would never achieve with a cigarette alone.

"I'll never understand how you can deliberately hurt yourself like that," remarked Aries casually, before he put his own cigarette out in his cup, which he felt was a much better ash tray than your own arm.

"You wouldn't," she replied lazily, ruffling his already messy hair on her way to the kitchen, "Firewhiskey?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Nope," she replied, throwing him his bottle and repositioning herself so she was taking up the entire couch, her legs on Aries' lap.

"Classy," he remarked.

"Boy-who-lived," she retorted, "Sounds like quite an accomplishment."

"Ginger."

"Pothead."

"Gin and tonic."

"Scarface."

"Best friend's little sister."

"Big brother's annoying best friend."

"Firecrotch."

"Ouch! Loverboy."

"Oo, low blow," he winced.

"I give what I get," she giggled.

"What you're going to get is my hex up your ass."

"I'm _so_ scared, Potter."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Bring it!"

Both were instantly on their feet at the last statement, and what followed was a duel the outside observer would've taken for a fight to the death. In reality, it was all in good fun, and though they could never determine who was the definitive loser of these impromptu battles, either would always swear it was the other.

_At least one thing is back to normal, _thought Ginny.

* * *

A week later, Aries and Samara's NEWT level Defense Against the Dark Arts course assembled promptly in their classroom as usual. DADA was always looked forward to since Samara's arrival, and even more so since her counterpart's. 

The two bickered like an old married couple, or so it seemed from their positions in the Great Hall. One day, Samara would refuse to look at Aries, or Aries would refuse to look at Samara, and the next day they'd both be laughing together as if nothing had happened. It was in mutual agreement that it would be better for the class if today was one of the days their professors were on speaking terms, and so it was with relief that they were found laughing together over a first years' parchment.

"Look at the next sentence, it's absolutely dreadful," said Samara, "he goes, 'Expelliarmus is a defense spell used to "expel" someone from the room.'."

"Merlin, does this kid ever pay attention?"

"I doubt it, but hopefully this class will. Take attendance, would you? The normal way."

"My preferred method for taking attendance is perfectly normal."

Samara glared at him.

"But of course, I'd love to do things your way. Abbot?"

"Here."

When Aries was finally finished, he gave his fellow teacher an exasperated look and remarked, "Why do you always give me the menial work?"

"Because I don't trust you with my classroom," she deadpanned, not even bothering to look up from the nearly illegible paper she was attempting to sort through.

"There you go again, _your _classroom. I swear to Merlin's hairy--"

"Students, Aries."

"--_arms_, this class is giving me an inferiority complex."

Samara looked up, giving up on the literacy of the eleven year old, and abandoned her intentions of an intelligent response in favor of uncontrollable laughter.

"That's.. rich!" she gasped, "How much longer until your inferiority complex takes over for your hero complex?"

Aries gave her an unamused look, before also abandoning any hope for an intelligent response and instead turned to the classroom for a (hopefully) intelligent discussion.

"We'll be talking about werewolves today, class, and no," he said, turning back to Samara, "your 'official' teacher will not be leading the discussion."

"I won't?" asked Samara casually.

"No," Aries sneered mockingly, "You won't. The time has come for me to prove I am _far_ better at this than you are."

"What happened to your inferiority complex?" she countered.

"An inferiority complex where I see _you _as inferior to _me_."

"I think that's called a stupidity complex."

"You're a stupidity complex!"

Samara stared at him unblinkingly, not for the first time in only the past five minutes. "Excellent start, Aries. You have successfully displayed both wit and the ability to stay on topic for more than thirty seconds. By all means, continue."

James, Sirius, and Peter gave the fourth Marauder an apprehensive look, knowing their friend's terse expression to be an indication that he was much less comfortable than the bantering professors. Fortunately, Aries dropped his light tone.

"Werewolves are, as you know, wizards who transform into a wolf-human hybrid on the full moon of each month. The disease, known as lycanthropy, is contracted through the bite of a transformed werewolf. However, I'm well aware that you've already covered how to spot werewolves, how to protect yourselves from them, et cetera et cetera. Frankly, I'm glad that you did, because I'm not interested in any of that stuff. What I'm interested in is not your opinion on transformed werewolves, but rather on wizards--human beings--who have contracted lycanthropy. Annemarie? What about you?"

The somewhat studious girl looked shocked at being called upon, and debated how to answer a question whose answer could not be found in a textbook. Remus buried his head in his hands as he waited for her reply.

"Well, they're half-breeds, aren't they?" she answered uncertainly, "They're not technically wizards. Or human beings."

Aries's response was interrupted by the growl emanating from a certain Sirius Black's throat. "That's nice, Jenkins, that's real nice," he snarled, "So just because someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time and happened to contract a _disease_, they're not _technically human?_"

The girl looked flustered. "Of course they aren't, Black, they're vicious creatures! They're a danger to society!"

"The only thing that's a danger to society is your overwhelming stupidity."

"That's what I say about Aries," mused Samara from her desk. "What?" she said when said wizard shot her a look, "You wanted to take over. You deal with this."

"Whatever," snarled Sirius, "you can punish me however you want, but I can't be held responsible for my actions when that much ignorance comes out of someone's mouth."

"On the contrary, Mr. Black," replied Aries, "apart from the attack on Ms. Jenkin's intelligence, I quite agree with you."

The class looked even more surprised at this, having already raised their eyebrows at Sirius displaying anything more than disdain or amusement in a classroom.

"Werewolves are not, as most would have you believe, a 'danger to society'. Of course, they _are _dangerous, but only once a month, when they have no control over it. I assure you, wizards infected with lycanthropy are not savages the other twenty-nine days of the lunar cycle, and they also did not wander off into a dark forest on the full moon shouting, 'Hey werewolves! I suck as a human being, let me join you!'"

"Aries may be right about few things, but this is one of them," added Samara, joining him in the center of the room, "One of our best friends and mentor was a werewolf, and I'd be willing to say he had more character than this entire room. He saved our lives, and ended up _dying _to protect us, so while there are many things I will tolerate in this classroom, a prejudice against werewolves and other magical creatures will _not_ be one of them."

"How many of you are aware," continued Aries, "that loneliness is a driving force in the widespread contraction of lycanthropy? A wizard in his werewolf form retains some basic human instincts, but they are mostly overpowered by his wolf instincts. Wolves are meant to live in packs, you see, and a werewolf is obviously not born into a pack. The carnal need for brothers, combined with the loneliness of the life a lycanthropic wizard leads, drives the need to spread the disease; to create a pack."

"So, really," said Samara quietly, "the bias you place against werewolves puts you at risk for becoming a werewolf yourself."

"So you're telling us that the best way to protect ourselves if we meet a werewolf is to invite him out for tea?" asked James from the back row.

"In theory, Mr. Potter, in theory," replied Samara, smiling softly, "Although, it might be best to run, figure out who the werewolf was, and invite him to tea in his human form."

"But that's just her opinion, and she prefers to stay in one piece," supplied Aries, "Me, I say where's the fun in that? Live a little."

"Twenty points to Gryffindor for an excellent display of character, Sirius," said Samara, ignoring her supposed friend's remarks, "I'm pleasantly surprised to see that you can be, well.. serious."

Sirius grinned like an idiot, as he always did when his built-in pun gave him an opportunity. "Thats, my name," he said, "Don't--"

"Wear it out, we know," chorused the rest of the classroom without humor.

"You love me," he replied, unperturbed.

"So?" asked Aries, looking at Samara expectantly.

"So, what?" she replied.

"Have I given you an inferiority complex?"

"Didn't you tell me an inferiority complex was feeling superior to others?"

"No, I said it was me feeling you were inferior to--Oh, I guess I did."

"Of course you did," replied Samara consolingly while the class looked on in amusement, "And I must admit, you weren't half bad, but I did step in and help you finish."

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed, "I would've done fine without you butting in!"

"Wonderful, then you can go over the homework."

"You bet your--"

"Students."

"_--arm_ I can!"

"Then kindly do so."

Samara returned to her desk, while Aries stared at the class in utter confusion. "Er," he began, "what exactly _was _the homework?"

"That's what I thought," sighed Samara, returning to her place beside Aries, "I'll take it from here."

The rest of the class went smoothly--or, as smoothly as a class with four marauders could go. The bell finally rang just as a cheer went out for the "No homework" decreed by Samara, but before everyone was out the door, Aries approached Remus discreetly and asked him to accompany the pair into their office.

"What's this about?" asked Remus nervously, looking around sporadically as if about to be jumped.

"Relax, Remus, you aren't in any trouble," assured Samara.

"And we're sorry if the discussion today made you uncomfortable," added Aries.

"What do you mean?" denied Remus in a frantic effort to keep his head, "Why would I be--"

"We know, Remus," replied Samara, "Albus informed us of your condition when we became staff members. And as you already know, you don't have to worry about us treating you any differently for it."

Remus looked slightly relieved, yet still puzzled. "What is this about, then?"

The lycanthrope watched curiously as Aries reached into his robes and pulled out a vial of a murky green substance. "This is a potion used by the werewolf friend we mentioned earlier. It's called Wolfsbane. He developed it back in Lancaster, but died before he could use it to help others like him. He did, however, sometimes need assistance brewing it, and imparted the knowledge to us."

"What exactly does it do?" inquired Remus, now thoroughly intrigued.

"It's taken before you transform," answered Samara, "and it's not a cure--you will still transform. However, the properties of the potion allow you to keep your human mind about you, and we want you to have it."

Remus looked overwhelmed at the prospect. "Thank you," he said, accepting the vial gratefully, "You have no idea how helpful this will be."

"Probably not," conceded Aries, "but we can guess. It takes some time to brew and, though I'm sure you're plenty skilled in Potions, I doubt you could brew it yourself, so we'll have it ready for you before the full moon each month."

"I don't know what to say," he replied.

"We're just happy to help," said Samara warmly, "we've seen how difficult this life can be for a person, and you deserve better, Remus. If there's ever anything else you need, or anything you want to talk about, we're here."

"I really appreciate that," said Remus, "And I might take you up on it."

"Good," replied Samara happily, "It's not healthy to keep everything bottled up."

"Ha!" said Aries, looking at his friend in disbelief, "That is the single most hypocritical thing I have ever and will _ever _hear anyone say."

"Shut it you," she replied nonchalantly, "Now get to class, Lupin, or you'll be late."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Alright, I know Aries and Samara might seem a bit out of character in this chapter, but this is what they give to the outside world--they obviously can't go around brooding all the time even if they feel like doing so, and I mentioned in the first chapter how one of Samara's triumphs was keeping her humor in spite of everything. It's like having chronic depression, I may feel like crap all the time, but that doesn't mean I want all of my interactions with other people to be a reminder of that. Usually the people who have the worst stuff going on are the people who always seem the happiest. But that's just my rationalization for it.

Lots of love, hugs, cookies, whatever it takes to get you to review. :)

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